There's no such thing as unicorns
by nothani
Summary: Dean and Sam head out into a small town out in the middle of nowhere after a woman was mysteriously healed. While they search for the initial attacker, they also try to figure out what exactly had saved the woman's life. [Season 9, a bit of an alternate storyline. I will do my best to stay as true to the show as I can. R&R are appreciated!]
1. Introduction

There was no one around to hear the humming as she wandered from the kitchen to the living room, dragging her bare feet against the dusty floor. It felt pleasantly soft against her feet, the dust creating a kind of cushion that also allowed her to slide along the wooden floor; which was exactly what she did. Her feet swirled over the dust as she turned around, falling onto the old couch on her back, letting out a content sigh. The sun trickled through the still clean spots on the cracked windows, making the grey natural carpet on the floor stand out even more. Lint and dust bunnies from years of neglect swirled up into the air, causing her to sneeze as they tickled the inside of her nose. Rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand, she lazily threw out her free arm to feel over the coffee table.

_Magazine, spoon, broken cup.. Book._

Grabbing the book and opening it, she began to read. Not being human meant that her arms didn't get tired from holding the book up, which was just as well. It was a dusty old tome about all kinds of pagan gods and goddesses. There was information about rituals and how to capture them, even how to kill them. It seemed like each god was killed in a different, usually most intricate way. It was a good read, there was always something she'd missed, and that's what she enjoyed about these kinds of books. No matter how many times she'd read them, she'd learn something new.

Not that she'd ever have any use of the information, oh no. The only reason she had these books were that they had been left behind by the previous owner of the cottage. A hunter, she believed they were called. A human which hunts anything inhuman. Which technically included her, but that was another thing entirely. She'd never chow down on anybody's entrails or curse anyone.

After a couple of hours, she put the book down, pushing herself up to sit. Her dull, light brown hair was a tangled mess, as it became every time she put her head in the couch for a longer period of time. Her hand even got stuck in it as she tried to run her fingers through, which prompted her to go get her hair brushed. Her teeth too, while she was at it. Might as well look decent, going into town.

She had a couple of towns to choose from whenever she decided to leave her warded haven. Pulling on a plaid shirt in a man's model, she headed out into the forest, following what was left of the dirt road leading up to the house. Her jeans were torn, but at least those were of the female model.

The townspeople had gotten somewhat used to this girl who came wandering with no shoes on. Of course, most still steered clear, but she didn't mind. Humans were such fickle creatures, even more skittish than her own kind. And that was saying something.

"Ey there Amy! Out on the road again, are we?" Roy was one of the few who actually always talked to her. Now, her name wasn't actually Amy, but people had always looked rather confused with her actual name, Amana. Amana simply nodded with a smile, skipping across the street to greet him.

"Sure am! Thought I'd pick up some groceries." Roy was the towns' best friend, sort of. He knew everybody and everybody knew him. He was the owner of the grocery store, the only one in the little town, which might explain just _why_ everybody knew him. Amana liked this place, it was safe. People here were so friendly that Roy could usually spend most of the day out front on the street, chatting with people as they came by.

"By groceries, I suppose you mean pastries and fruits? Girl, if I had a penny for each time I wondered how the heck you can eat all that and be as skinny as a stick, I'd be a rich man." Humans enjoyed imagining themselves being rich, which Amana always found so oddly fascinating. She'd seen her fair share of rich people, and they never seemed to be the ones who felt like they had it all.

"If I was as skinny as a stick I'd most likely be dead, Roy." She spoke with a smile and truth in her voice. Metaphors and imagery weren't her strong suit, but most people took her honest comments as a bit of a morbid joke. Today wasn't any different; her words got a raspy chuckle out of the man.

"Alright, well, say hello to Mrs Wellsworth when you get there." He grinned one of those crooked, yet friendly grins of his. His teeth were stained for chewing tobacco for most of his life, something that Amana couldn't understand why humans did. Did they not realize it was poison?

Mrs Wellsworth wasn't too thrilled to see her. Amana knew exactly what the woman thought of her, but she didn't mind. Mrs Wellsworth would do her best to smile and be polite, although the exterior that would fool many hardly impressed her. But then again, she did have a natural ability to see these kinds of things.

The visit to the bakery was short and concise, just how she liked it. Making her way over to the towns square, she sat down by the fountain to enjoy her newly purchased goods. Carrot cakes and Danish pastries with jam, two of her personal favourites.

Then it hit her. The sensation struck like that of a nightmare, making her gut stir unpleasantly. It barely took a second for her to get up, heading straight across the square, leaving her bag of treats behind, half eaten. Like electricity running through her body the sensation made her skin crawl. It had been so long since she'd felt this. Why had she dared to pray for it to stay that way?

Taking a sharp turn, her instinctive path was eventually rendered superfluous as the gasps and shrieks of the locals were more than enough to guide her, their terrified voices shifting her walk into a jog.

Blood. So much blood. Despite the daylight and the streets busy with people, a woman was gasping for air on the ground, clutching her neck in desperation. She was trying to speak but all she did was gurgle, choking on her own blood. Amana took a step back, staring at the woman. She had been attacked, but she was still alive, despite of her throat being partially ripped out. People were flocking around her, shouting at each other to call the sheriff and the hospital. Amana took a deep breath, sneaking closer and melting in with the crowd to get closer to the woman.

_If I just can reach her foot.._

Chewing on her lip subconsciously, Amana sat down on her knees among the many legs of the locals. Pulling off a black scarf, she tied it around her forehead before discretely reaching out, only barely managing to touch the woman's foot. In the commotion, no one seemed to notice. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. There was a light behind her eyelids, and the scarf was doing its job of keeping the light from her forehead from catching attention. She couldn't do much about the glow in her hand, but thanks to the bright daylight and the white nature of the glow, no one seemed to notice.

Suddenly, the woman let out the cry she had been trying to let out ever since she was attacked, and that was the signal for Amana to retreat. She did so hurriedly, pulling off her scarf to tie it around her neck again before running off into the alley, the same way she came.

There was a fading murmur of confused locals as she got further and further away from them, and the next day, the story would make it to the front page.

_"Woman mysteriously attacked, saved by a miracle."_


	2. A slow start

"Got one." Dean slapped the newspaper with the back of his hand in a triumphant gesture before sliding it over to his brother, whom seemed less than aware of whatever his older brother was so pleased about.

"Got what." Sam's voice was flat as he stared at his computer screen, clearly not paying much attention to Dean. On the screen were tabs upon tabs of different sites with information about angels, especially how to track a specific angel. It was his priority number one, even though the information was scarce and seldom useful.

"A case, dumbass." Dean's displeasure with Sam's lack of interest was not only evident in his voice, but in his expression as well. Letting out a light snort, he leaned back in his seat, taking a far too large bite out of his bagel.

"Woman got her throat ripped out in the middle of the street, in daylight." Sam's brow furrowed and he finally tore his gaze from the screen to gather up the newspaper, ignoring the smug look on Dean's face.

"Doesn't sound like a vamp, but.." Dean snuck in another large bite of his bagel before even having finished his last mouthful completely, only to interrupt Sam.

"If ftill doef pfound like a vamp, I know!" Sam glanced at his brother, whose voice was muffled by the large amount of poorly chewed bagel in his mouth. After a provoking "what" gesture from Dean, Sam simply rolled his eyes and let it slide.

"But vamps don't usually attack in broad daylight."

"That's not even the kicker. Read further, right there, go on, read." Dean flicked his hand, sloppily tapping the spot on the newspaper where, apparently, the important part of the article was starting. Albeit reluctant to obey his brother's already massive ego, Sam began reading out loud.

"Locals found the woman, Nancy Hearth, in the middle of the street, bleeding out due to substantial injuries to her throat. Somehow, when the law and ambulance arrived, while soaked in her own blood, there was no injury to be found on the woman, who was able to go home straight away. Locals are calling it a... Miracle?" Sam raised his head with a confused look on his face.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dean rolled his shoulders in a shrug, wiping off his hands on his pants.

"Well what's _not_ a good thing is a vamp that's getting so cocky they're trying to feed in the middle of the street, in daylight." Sam gave a tilted nod in agreement; Dean did have a very valid point with that. Smacking his laptop closed and shoving it into his bag, Sam got out of his seat by the little breakfast table, in perfect sync with his brother, who was grinning with a strange twinkle of excitement in his eyes.

"Let's hit the road!"

* * *

It had taken about a day and a half to drive to the little town, and for the last few hours there was really nothing else but farms and woodland around to look at. It seemed odd for a vampire to decide to hunt in such a desolate little town. A missing person here would get everyone's attention, even if it was just the neighbourhood bum.

"Perhaps it's a really stupid, newly turned vamp?" Dean suggested, but the tone in his voice made it obvious that he didn't really believe his own words. Sam huffed out a chuckle and glanced at his frowning brother.

"Yeah, and what would have turned it? I've been doing _tons_ of research about the place, this is basically the first attack in years. Seems like only, well, good things happen there." Sam didn't know what to make of it, neither of them did.

"So what, a newly turned vamp that... Ran all the way to this damn town?"

"Well, technically they could, but.."

"I know, it's fucking ridiculous." Dean snorted in frustration, throwing his elbow over the back of his seat, one hand firmly on the wheel as they drove into town.

It had been a while since they'd visited a place like this. Dean watched with a confused frown as they slowly drove down the street. Every shop was quaint and open, with the owners outside chatting with each other and whoever came by. Even the teenagers sought out conversation, which just made Dean shake his head.

"This place gives me the creeps." Sam let out a chuckle, leaning back in his seat to give his brother a bit of a scolding look.

"What, because the teenagers aren't rogue criminals, but actually polite?" Dean slapped the wheel and sharply turned his head to stare at Sam, that frown still scrunching up his forehead.

"It just ain't normal!"

* * *

Once they were both suited up, badges in hand, they set out to do some interviews. While there was still suspicion towards this town settled deep within Dean's mind, he had to accept that the people, besides the creepy friendly behaviour with each other, seemed like completely normal people. They talked to him just like most other folks did, and acted the same as well. However, when the prodding questions about what really happened snuck in, these people all seemed perfectly aware of what was going on.

"Why it was a miracle of the Lord, of course!"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other for a moment before returning their attention to the elderly woman they were interviewing. She was the last witness, but besides different wording, she was saying the exact same thing as everyone else that had been there.

"A.. Miracle, ma'am?" Sam tried cautiously, not wishing to undermine the lady's beliefs, although both he and Dean knew more than well that God had nothing to do with this. Something else was going on.

"Yes, a miracle, God's work!" Sam had to elbow Dean discretely as the guy tried to stifle a snicker.

"Somehow I doubt that, ma'am." Dean hadn't been able to help himself; it just slipped out of him, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he pretended to be busy writing something down in the little notepad he was carrying. Sam just quickly rolled his eyes before smiling kindly at the lady, going in to salvage the conversation.

"Forgive my partner, he's not very religious. Do you mind telling me exactly what happened, that made you believe it was a miracle?"

* * *

Exiting the house, Sam adjusted his tie as they both walked down the steps off the porch. Dean simply shook his head, a chuckle in his voice as he spoke.

"Miracle of God.. Yeah right. More like.." He was forced to pause, frowning a bit as he tried to think of something that would have done this.

"An angel? It fits the bill." Sam suggested, but while angels were more than capable of helping humans heal, they were rather busy with the whole war of factions going on.

"Come on, an angel, here? It's been_ how_ long since they fell? I doubt any angel would think it a good idea to stay in this town. They've got a war to fight, for fucks sake!"

"It would make a good hiding place." The brothers flinched and turned around, both of them with a hand on their gun. Once they saw who it was, they relaxed.

"Damn it, Cas!" Dean basically hissed out the words as he glared at the angel with narrow eyes.

"How did you even find us?"

"The newspaper on your breakfast table. You left without waiting for me." They both raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other. They had completely forgotten that Castiel had been helping them with their previous case of some rogue demons.

"I was gone for twenty five minutes and thirty four seconds, but when I come back with the coffee, you were both gone." There was a hint of abandonment in the raspy voice of the angel, something that was completely lost with Dean, who frowned and tipped his head slightly to the side, pointing at Cas.

"It took you twenty five minutes to get coffee? What the hell were you doing?"

"Apparently, it is not generally accepted to go in front of other people waiting for coffee. I insisted that is was important, but.. They called security, and I had to go to another coffee shop."

Sam blinked in confusion and shook his head, holding up a hand.

"Hang on, Cas, you spent a long time being a human, how could you not know that you have to stand at the back of the line and wait your turn?"

"In my time as human, which is very short compared to the rest of my existence, I never encountered the phenomenon of standing in line. I thought it something humans do when they have a lot of time to spare."

"Probably because you were a hobo on the run most of the time, and then a sales clerk." Dean snickered with a grin, which disappeared as Cas sent him a short glare.

"Sales _associate_."

* * *

"Now that you're here Cas, perhaps you can help us out." They had all gathered in the car. Dean by the wheel, Sam next to him in the passenger's seat, and Castiel in the back as usual. Sam spoke with a hopeful smile, looking at their friend, who seemed.. A tad confused about the statement.

"Am I not always helping you out?" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut tight before sighing. He was about to say something that no doubt would offend the angel, thus Sam stepped in before he could even open his mouth.

"Cas, is there any way an angel would be hiding out here? Are there still neutral angels out there?" Cas frowned, falling silent as he glanced down, thinking about the answer.

"I suppose it is technically possible, but highly unlikely. The factions are killing the neutral angels that refuse to pick a side, and most are now giving up on avoiding the war." Dean threw up his hands in a defeated gesture, slapping them down on his legs.

"That's it, I'm out of ideas."

"Out of ideas of.. What?" Sam sighed and put an arm over the back of their seat, looking at Cas.

"What caused the 'miracle' that everyone in town is going on about. They're calling it a miracle of the lord, but.."

"It is not, a miracle of the lord. It would be highly improbable that my Father would come down to save one woman when there are far more pressing matters." Dean turned back around to look at Castiel with his eyebrows raised.

"So you know what's happened here?"

"Of course. It took me less than a second to get here once I found the newspaper, I have been waiting for you." Turning back around slowly, Dean let out a low chuckle.

"Of course you have.." Sam rolled his eyes and then looked at Castiel.

"Is there anything else that can make someone heal like that? I mean, it's not like she made a deal with a demon, apparently she was choking on her own blood." Castiel sucked in a slow breath before expelling it in a thoughtful sigh, frowning as he rummaged through his mind for a plausible answer. Looking up at Sam, he straightened up.

"I will do some research." And with those words, he was gone. Sam frowned slightly and glanced over at Dean.

"Not even Cas knows what's going on."

"Well" Dean started, putting the Impala into gear.

"We'll just have to figure it out ourselves."

* * *

"What's with this town!?" Dean angrily slammed the door of the Impala shut, but not without gently patting the roof as a kind of subconscious apology while staring at Sam.

"There's not a single burger joint!" Sam let out a laugh and glanced over at Dean as they walked down the street in their casual clothes, his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Oh no" Sam spoke with a childish tease in his voice.

"That means you'll have to eat food made out of _locally sourced products_, what a nightmare!" Sam had extracted his hands from his pockets to wiggle his fingers on either side of his face. Dean snorted and gave his brother a cold glare, but it didn't seem to put a dent in Sam's high spirits.

"Oh come on Dean, relax! Non toxic food is not that bad, you know." Sam kept teasing his brother. He felt good, for once. They had agreed on a strictly business relationship, but for some reason he couldn't help but enjoy himself. For once they weren't only hunting something bad, they could find something good. And for all the crap that had been happening around them lately, they needed something good to happen.

"So, do you think we have a mysterious healer person on our hands? Like the blind guy?"

"Yeah well he wasn't exactly healing them. His wife was making other people _die _so that her husband could_ look_ like he's healing people." Sam sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and gave a tilted nod.

"Yeaaah that's true. I wonder if there even are any actual human healers. I mean, last time we tracked one down, it turned out to be Castiel."

They kept walking down the street, discussing both where the vampire could have gone off to and what could possibly have healed the woman. They knew of friendly monsters, sure, but they had never heard of a monster that actually goes out of its way to heal people. Kind of defeats the purpose of calling it a monster.

"Ey, you're the two feds, aren'tcha?" The two brothers slowed down to curiously look over to the man standing by the grocery shop.

"Yes, and you sir..?" Sam smiled as he spoke, walking up to the man who tipped his cap in a greeting.

"Roy, I own the grocery store here. So, what do you make of this here mystery?" Sam chuckled lowly and ran a hand over his hair.

"Well to be honest, we're kind of stumped."

"No wonder! I mean sure, we've had little miracles happen every now and then, but the _attack_! Now that's a first in a long time."

Dean pulled himself away from the window, where he had been scouting for anything decent to eat.

"Wait, so this isn't the first time someone's been healed?" While he spoke, he dug out the notepad he kept in his pocket, ready to write down any information the man had to give them. Roy shook his head.

"Oh not at all, we like to think of ourselves as a blessed little town. People walking away unscathed from car crashes, a kid with cancer getting healthy without treatment... We keep it mostly to ourselves to keep the biblical fanatics out." Roy raised a hand as to stop the brothers from assuming things.

"Now, we believe in our lord the saviour as much as any other town, but there are limits to worship, if you know what I mean." Dean snorted out a laugh and nodded, mumbling that yeah, he knew what he meant.

"Anyway, regarding the case, do you remember anything unusual happening that day? Anything out of the ordinary, did someone you know act strange?"

"What, you think it's one of our own that attacked Nancy? Hah! As if, I know all of these people, no one would do such a thing! It just ain't in them. As I said, this is a blessed little town, and we're thankful for our blessings. Makes people a lot happier, you know, knowing there's something good watching over us." Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at Dean, which quickly shifted into a look of apathy as his brother had gone back to examining the storefront window. Returning his attention to the man, Sam brought out his own notebook, smiling politely.

"Alright, so had anyone new come into town? Anyone at all?" Scratching his beard, the man leaned against the brick wall of the store, letting out a deep sigh, heavy with the smell of tobacco.

"Well, Amy came back into town that day." Scribbling down the name, Sam took a tiny step closer to the man. It could turn out to be nothing, but they had so little to go on, any information would be useful.

"Who's Amy?" Sam pressed, eager to get any information. Roy raised an eyebrow before holding up a finger, causing Sam to frown while he fished up a box of tobacco, pushing a clump up in under his lip, smacking contently.

"Well, Amy comes into town every now and then. Sweet kid, a bit out of it, but as harmless as a bunnyrabbit. She comes in, goes to the bakery, and then stays for a couple of days before going back to, well, wherever she came from." This was good. At least they had something strange to go on. Writing down the information, Sam started speaking again.

"So you have no idea where she is now, or where she lives?" Suspicion crept into the man's eyes as he narrowed them, watching Sam closely.

"She ain't got nothing to do with this, ya hear?" Sam was slightly taken aback by the man's sudden, albeit discrete hostility.

"No, no, we just.."

"We have to explore all possibilities, sir." Dean said with that professional smile of his.

"Thank you for your time." Dean nudged Sam and they both began walking down the street again.

"What was that about?" Sam hissed at Dean, still within hearing range if they spoke normally.

"He's not going to tell us where she is, we'll have to do some digging ourselves to find her. He said she always goes to the bakery, didn't he? Well, let's go to the bakery." Sam raised his eyebrows, glancing at his brother with a less than trusting look, shoving his notepad into his pocket.

"And this is not, because you want to see if they have pie?" Dean huffed as though Sam had just insulted him horribly, and once they reached the car, he opened the door and got in with a smile.

"Please.. It's always about the pie."

* * *

The bakery did indeed have pie, and about as many kinds as Dean could possibly want. Sam gave up any hope that his brother would help him with this particular inquiry, he was on his own. Not that he minded, sometimes it was easier to question people without Dean breathing down his neck, or breathing down women's cleavages. The mere thought caused him to roll his eyes, but once the owner of the bakery came to the front, he smiled kindly.

"Hello there, Mrs Wellsworth, is it?" The woman was probably slightly past forty, and seemed more than pleased with having Sam in her shop, if judging by her smile.

"Yes, however can I help you?" Dean just had to throw a glance at the two, god, that woman was soaking her voice in honey. Kind of disturbing.

"We're wondering if a girl named Amy came by here say, two days ago?" The mention of the name seemed to put the woman in a much sourer mood and she nodded slowly, stroking her own hands nervously.

"Well, yes, she did. She always comes by here when she comes into town." Sam raised his eyebrows before frowning slightly.

"But you, weren't too pleased with that?" The woman tapped the desk and sighed, looking around a though she didn't know what to focus on.

"Oh, well, oh I don't know, I suppose so? I mean she's never done anything bad, but there's something off about that girl." Sam's lips twitched with a smile, but he kept his exterior calm.

"What exactly was off about her?"

"Well for one, I've never seen the girl wear shoes. Who doesn't wear shoes? Even in the winter she's barefoot!" This was odd enough to tear Dean away from the large assortment of pies, joining Sam at the desk with a frown.

"No shoes, ever?" The woman shook her head, clapping her hands against the wooden desk.

"Never! Even in winter, no shoes. The girl doesn't even put on a jacket!" Sam huffed out a light chuckle.

"That is, definitely strange. Do you know where she is?"

"No, I don't. But every time she's bought pastries, she goes to the town square to sit by the fountain. I'd look there if I was you. Is she in trouble?" There was a hint of hopefulness in the woman's voice that made them both frown, and they quickly excused themselves, throwing the blame at 'duty calls'.

"So we've got a non-angel, that_ acts_ just like an angel?" Dean frowned as he used his hands to really empathize his confusion about this case.

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh come on Sam, who else do you know that's a _bit out of it_ and doesn't put on more clothes in winter, or removes them during the summer?" Sam blinked and then gave a slow nod as he connected the dots.

"Castiel, yeah, you're right."

"So, as I said, we've got a supposedly non-angel, doing angelic stuff, while acting like an angel. Just great, like we needed shit to make less sense."

Once they got to the town square, it was a bit difficult to know what to look for. If this was an angel, they could have just zapped out of there as soon as they sensed danger, but things also pointed towards it not being an angel. The two brothers split up to look for anything that could be considered a clue. A group of crows caught Dean's attention as they were gathering by a bench, seemingly feasting on something inside a paper bag.

"Shoo, shoo!" Dean swept his arms in the air to scare off the crows, which both flew and hopped away to get away from this massive brute that interrupted their meal. It was a paper bag with the logo of the Wellsworth Bakery.

"Hey, Sam! Get your ass over here." Sam instinctively walked over to Dean, with a bit of a spring in his step.

"What is it?" Dean smirked as he held up the paper bag, a half-eaten carrot cake was still left inside, no doubt eaten at by crows.

"Seems like she left in a hurry, didn't even finish her meal, or come back to it."


	3. The ball gets rolling

The trail seemed to run out into the sand. There were no kind of tracks to follow and no witnesses, and it all was starting to feel rather hopeless. After hours of scouting, the two brothers began driving back towards the local inn, in which they were staying. It was a comfortable place, better looked after than the average motel that they usually stayed in. Southern comfort would probably be the best way to describe it. Dean was tired and frustrated, annoyed with this entire charade. Nothing made any sense. He climbed out of the car, grunting and muttering something under his breath as he headed up to the inn's door. As he was about to open it, a young girl in a plaid shirt stepped out, gasping and only just managing to swirl around and past Dean, who wasn't exactly paying attention to the people around him. He simply went on inside, leaving the door open.

Amana blinked and stroked some hair in behind her ear before shrugging with a smile, but as she tore her gaze from the stranger and turned around, another one was looking down at her with a smile.

"Sorry about my partner, it's been a long day. Quite the evasive manoeuvre there, nice work." He seemed friendly with that smile, amusement obvious in his voice. Nodding, she smiled in return.

"Nothing fancy. I hope you get to have a better day tomorrow." Sam let out a chuckle and nodded with a slight roll of his shoulders.

"Me too, it's like we've been chasing our tails all day." Raising an eyebrow, Amana looked up at the tall stranger with a bit of a suspicious look in her eyes.

"I happen to know for a fact that humans don't have tails." Then she grinned and headed down off the porch, waving a hand. "Anyway, better luck tomorrow!"

Sam just stood there with a frown, watching the girl leave. Normally, he'd have taken it for an awkwardly executed joke if it hadn't been for one particular word the girl had used.

_Humans._

"Hey, Dean, I think I got something!" He looked into the reception room of the motel as he called out, only to clear his throat as he got a strange look from the receptionist. It seemed like his brother had already booked a room and headed on inside, leaving Sam to awkwardly hurry down to the corridor of rooms.

"What the hell man? At least tell me if you're going to go." Dean had already collapsed on the bed, frowning at his brothers' sudden accusations. He didn't seem inclined to move however. These beds were soft, much softer than the usual motel beds, and they even smelled clean.

"Whaat..?" Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I got something, a lead." Dean forced himself to sit up, raising his eyebrows as he glanced over at Sam.

"Really. In five minutes, you've managed to dig up a lead? Yeah right."

"Yeah that girl you almost crashed into by the entrance, I think that's Amy." Dean scratched a hand over his head through his hair, sucking in a yawn.

"Why didn't you chase her down then?"

"And get arrested for harassing a random girl? No thanks." Sam leaned back in his seat, looking over at his brother, who had sunk right back down into the bed, his head buried in the plush pillow. Shaking his head with a smile, he got up to go lay on his own bed. The girl didn't seem alarmed, quite the contrary, actually. She'd at least stay for a couple of hours, which was about the amount of sleep they were planning on getting.

* * *

It was a clear night without a moon, which made the stars stand out quite beautifully. Normally she would spend this time just enjoying the calm, but there was something amiss in paradise. Her paradise. Her own little Garden of Eden, or well, one of them. If she didn't find the creature that had attacked Nancy, it might attack someone again, and that time, she might be too late. She had used her scarf to tie back her hair in a low ponytail, just to get it out of the way. Now, she wasn't particularly good at tracking. Her kind weren't meant to track anything, they were meant to aid. However, her humans needed her aid. This was not something she could leave up to the federal police.

It felt strange, holding such a long blade, such a deadly weapon. It was an old machete, one of many weapons that she had found in her cottage. Thanks to all the books, she knew how to kill creatures, and how to identify them. Whatever had attacked Nancy, it just had to be a vampire. It just had to be, or she could find herself in quite a mess.

Her bare feet were barely touching the ground as she walked, machete in hand, ready to be used. She was hunched over; trying to be stealthy, but she looked more like an amateur hunter. Which was a pretty good description of what she currently was.

"Come out come out, wherever you are.." Her voice was but a nervous whisper, trembling with suppressed fear. She wasn't a fighter, but she had to do something about a monster hurting the humans that she cared about.

"You know that's a really bad thing to WHOA!" Dean only just managed to dodge the machete that was swung at him before swiftly disarming the girl, pressing her up against the wall with his lower arm against her throat.

"Easy there tiger." He grinned, cocking his head slightly. Sam picked up the machete, raising his eyebrows as he examined it.

"This is really old." Gently touching the supposedly sharp edge of the blade, he let out a light chuckle and dropped it on the ground again.

"It's not even sharp." Dean looked back at Sam. "What?" Returning his attention to the, surprisingly still girl, he frowned. "Why the hell are you out hunting with a blade that wouldn't even be able to cut?" Throwing out her arms in a confused gesture, she tried to shrug.

"I didn't know it wasn't sharp! I don't use weapons." Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, because you use your teeth, don't you?" With those words, he quickly lifted the girls' lip to check for fangs, something that he, to his surprise, couldn't find anywhere.

"She's not a vamp." Licking her teeth and making general grimaces from having her mouth poked in, Amana scrunched up her nose. It was rather unpleasant having such dirty fingers touch the inside of her mouth. She was partial to sweet tastes, not... Grime.

"I'm out_ looking_ for the vampire. Why would a vampire hunt another vampire?" Dean shrugged. "I've seen weirder." Glancing off at Sam, he nodded in agreement, ensuring to Amana that they had indeed seen weirder things happen. Finally, Dean released the girl, allowing her to slide back down onto the ground.

"Sorry, but you're going to have to come with us."Frowning, she took a step to the side. "Why..?" Sam held up his hands before putting away his gun. "Easy, we're not going to hurt you! We just want to find out what you are and why you're here."

"Well you could just ask..! I'm a"

"She's a unicorn." Castiel's voice cut through the night and was enough to make her jump. Dean glanced off at the angel, raising his eyebrows before letting out an amused laugh.

"Yeah, right. She's a unicorn. And I'm a goblin." Castiel blinked slowly as he watched Dean while walking up to him. "Yes, she is a unicorn. However, I am most certain that you are not, a goblin." Dean was about to say something but then gave up the idea of explaining what he had just said to Castiel.

"There's no such thing as unicorns, Cas! They're, fairy tale stuff!" Castiel moved up to the girl, grabbing her chin to examine her, tilting her head up and to the side. "Humans also think demons and angels are fairy tale stuff. I can assure you, unicorns do exist." He let go of the girl to place a hand on top of her head instead, something that seemed to tickle incredibly, as she could not stop squirming.

"Pureblood unicorn." He stated casually, and she moved to scratch at her scalp to rid herself of the last tickling sensations. Sam shook his head, finally moving up to them to speak.

"So hang on, she's a real unicorn? I thought they were.."

"Horses with horns? We used to be. A bit too easy to spot." She smiled, bowing her head politely. "My name is Amana, and I am a unicorn."

* * *

"I assure you Dean, the ropes are superfluous. She has no intention to harm us." Amana sat in the middle of the room, tied to a chair. The unicorn didn't seem bothered by it; in fact, she seemed quite pleased to be in the company of hunters. After all, she lived in a hunters' cabin, and there was something thrilling about being in their presence.

"You don't know that, Cas!" Dean gestured angrily at the angel, who looked over at Sam with a confused frown, unsure of how to calm Dean down in this matter.

"She is not, a fucking unicorn!" Holding out his hands, Castiel's voice was like a sigh. "I do not know how to convince you that she is. She is a creature of God, almost as ancient as the angels." Dean shook his head, waving his gun in the air as he aggressively pointed at the girl, staring at Castiel. "So what exactly_ is _a unicorn, huh? What do we do with it?!"

"I am of the female gender."

"Shut up!" Amana flinched and blinked, glancing away as she sucked in her lips with raised eyebrows. Why this human was so angry with the fact she was a unicorn, she had no idea.

"You don't _do_ anything with a unicorn." The angel tried to explain, albeit his patience seemed to be running thin. "They're not like angels, they do not take sides, they were simply created to heal the sick and injured when God first established the Garden. They are healers, not warriors."

"But I thought angels were the healers of heaven?" Castiel's lips twitched with what seemed like the hint of a smile, but it was incredibly brief. "Angels are the warriors of heaven. Yes, we can heal, but unicorns were meant to live among humans, and aid them from the shadows. Of course, things didn't go according to plan.." His raspy voice began to drag slightly as he spoke, recalling the dark memories. Sam frowned and sank down onto the foot of his bed, his elbows resting on his legs, his fingers locked together.

"What happened, Cas?" The angel sucked in a deep breath before sighing, clearly not enjoying having to not only recall those times, but explain them.

"Gadreel let the serpent, Lucifer, enter the Garden. The unicorns became hunted for their magic, and eventually, God was forced to task the Archangel Gabriel with herding them back to heaven. He succeeded... For the most part." The angels' eyes wandered over to Sam, who straightened up slightly. "Some got left behind, didn't they?"

That was the last straw for Dean and he slammed his gun into the table with exaggerated motions. "This is crazy! _Unicorns_?! Really? Freaking rainbow pooping horses?!" Amana frowned and primmed her lips with displeasure.

"I do _not_ poop rainbows! Where did you hear such a ridiculous thing?" She let out a snort, and Dean seemed far more confused than he should have. "In fact, I have no need to poop at all. That is a human need, not a unicorn one." Dean's confusion quickly shifted to a blank 'I did not need to know that' look as he turned his head to look at Sam, who seemed thrilled with his discomfort, trying to stifle a chuckle.

* * *

Eventually, Dean had no choice but to submit to the fact that the girl in front of him was in fact a unicorn. A freaking unicorn. He wasn't happy about it, but at least it had begun to sink in.

"Alright, Amy.. It's Amy, right?" She shook her head, leaning back in her seat. The ropes had come off, though them being on hadn't seemed to dampen her spirits anyway.

"Actually, it's Amana. However, humans have double names, so, I go by Amy Gladestraw." Dean nearly choked on his beer, huffing before chuckling, looking at the girl. "Really, Gladestraw? What kind of name is that, what had you been smoking?"

"I do not smoke anything. It was a spur of the moment decision..! I was born in a glade, and I do enjoy the scent of straw, so.." Dean shook his head, chuckling lowly before slugging down some more of his beer. Sam shot a glance at his brother, lightly shaking his head before smiling at Amana. "Well I think it's a good name. You're creative, unlike some people, who have zero talent with coming up with names.." There was a distinct pointer at Dean in his voice, which caused the older brother to frown, putting down his beer with a loud clonk.

"Are you seriously going to bash on my Jefferson Starships again? Really Sammie?" He was about as defensive in the tone of his voice as though he had been accused of never being able to pick up a girl. Clearly, Sam was trampling all over a quite sore spot. Sam just snickered, not rewarding his brother with a response as he took a sip of his beer. Amana frowned, looking from one to the other before eventually looking up at Castiel.

"What in heaven's name is a Jefferson Starship?"

"A new, but now extinct breed of monster that Dean was incapable of naming correctly." Dean threw up his hands with a scowl, glaring up at the angel. "What the hell, man?"

"Jefferson Starship is not a descriptive name for a monster of that nature, Dean. No matter how many times you say it is." Rolling his eyes, Dean huffed before taking a sip of his beer, glancing away like an unhappy child. "It's a fucking perfect description, you dickbag."

Sam swallowed down some beer before slapping his palm lightly against his thigh to break them all off from the current course of the conversation. "Alright! The case."

"Yes, the case." Dean echoed, downing the rest of his beer before opening up the laptop. "We have no idea who the vamp is, so I guess we'll have to fish up some records of all the inhabitants. Try to sort out who's the most suspicious."

"It's not one of the locals, that much I know." Dean slowly turned his head to look at the girl with an unconvinced expression. Sam stepped in to prevent his brother from saying anything offensive.

"How do you know, Amy? Is it, okay if I just call you Amy?" She nodded with a smile, looking over at Sam. "Sure! I mean, I suppose it's useless to remain attached to my old name. From now on, it's Amy. Alright." Sam waited for a few moments before gesturing gently. "So, how do you know..?"

"Oh! Well, if one of the locals was a vampire, they would have to lie substantially to everyone around them. They would stand out like a beacon to me." Both the brothers fell silent, uncertain of what Amy meant by this. After glancing discretely at each other to check if the other had any idea, it fell upon Sam to get Amy to clarify what she had just said. "A beacon..?"

"Unicorns are able to sense lies." Castiel had been quiet for some time, and only now decided to join in the conversation, temporarily. "They have a keen sense of detecting poison, and lies are much like poison of the human mind." There was an actual smile playing on Castiel's lips. He seemed oddly proud speaking about the unicorns, something that made Dean shake his head slowly with an almost concerned frown as he looked up at the angel from his seat. Castiel simply kept smiling, completely happy with his contribution to the conversation.

"Alright, so, because no one in town is a beacon.." Sam began, trying to make sense of it all. "It has to be an outsider..?" Amy nodded vigorously, her hands firmly in her lap. "Yes! A complete stranger." Dean heaved a sigh and leaned against the table with an elbow, his head resting in his palm. It was a clear signal for Sam to take over, that he couldn't be bothered with untangling this mess right now.

"But it makes no sense." Sam leaned over the table, propped up by his arms. "Vamps usually have nests, a kind of.. Twisted family that they are loyal to. What would a vamp do all the way out here, and why would they attack during the day?" He raised his eyebrows, looking at Amy in hope of getting some kind of solution. Just one piece that could solve the puzzle.

"Desperation? Or perhaps there's something even worse out there during the night, that it wishes to avoid?" Sam frowned, running a hand through his hair in thought. "A monster that vamps are so scared of they would hunt during the day to avoid it?" Sam looked over at Dean, but his brother simply shrugged, not interested in having any real part in the discussion.

"Perhaps you are focusing too much on the _why_, and not enough on finding the vampire and.. _Ganking_ it, as you would put it." Castiel added, looking down at the two brothers. Dean finally straightened up and smacked his hand against the table as he got up.

"Strong point, Cas! No matter _why_ it's out in daylight. Nothing else is killing, or, trying to kill people in these parts. We gank the vamp, problem solved." Amy smiled, patting her own legs with her palms happily.

"I do like it when problems are solved!"


	4. Not very smooth

The next night wasn't at all as beautiful as the one before. The clouds hovered thick above the town, threatening to create a storm any moment. Howling winds zipped through the town, causing old windows to rattle and trees to sway, bowing to the forces of nature. Dean cursed under his breath as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself, his shoulders raised as though he could shelter from the wind between them. This was not an optimal night for hunting, but they had little choice. Sam had at least been wise enough to at least put on a scarf, which he had tied comfortably around his neck, looking much more content with the situation than his brother. Following behind them, was Amy.

"I still don't get why the fuck she's coming with us." Dean threw a cold glance back at Amy. The girl didn't even seem to realize his displeasure; in fact, she seemed far too busy with enjoying the wind. Holding her scarf in both hands, she was smiling as the wind filled it like a tiny parachute.

"Stop that!" Dean hissed in a whisper as he snatched the scarf from her, shoving it into his pocket. "This is not some kind of game!" While it could still be considered a kind of whisper, his voice was loud enough to cut through the howling winds. Amy blinked and held up her hands with raised eyebrows before locking them together behind her back. Sam moved closer to his brother, leaning in closer to speak privately with him, throwing a glance or two back at the girl.

"Don't you think you're being a bit.. _Harsh_ with her? She's only trying to help." Dean rolled his eyes as he let out a snort, looking up at Sam with a scowl. "Yeah, that's the _problem_. Remember when Jo wanted to help? It almost got her killed! And now, we're getting _help_ from a girl who barely can swing a machete!" Sam frowned and glanced back at Amy before looking back at his brother. There seemed to be no changing his mind just yet, but he had to try. This much negativity could ruin the hunt.

"Okay, listen. I know it's not,_ ideal_, but she could prove helpful. I mean, it's kind of like having a personal healer with us." Dean sucked in a deep breath through his nose before snorting, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. "Cas could heal us just as good." Sam let out a light chuckle, giving a nod. "Yeah, but Cas has a tendency to zap away at the worst of times."

That was a statement that Dean really couldn't argue with. It was convenient to have a healer with them, who couldn't zap away at a whim. There were also the issues with angel warding, which they had run into several times. Castiel had been forced to remain outside several times when they had really needed his help, such as when they went to rescue the kid angel, Alfie. _That day sucked_, Dean thought to himself on a sigh.

"Hang on." The female voice of the unicorn made him frown as he turned his head to look at her. "What?" She had a current pose much like a dog that had spotted something, which made him raise his eyebrows and glance at Sam in a '_still think it's a good idea?_' kind of way. Amy scrunched up her nose before running a hand through her hair, staring intently in a particular direction.

"It feels strange."

"Wow. What a wealth of information." Dean spoke with sarcasm dripping from his voice, but the unicorn just looked at him with a moment of confusion before looking back towards some buildings that were under construction.

"I think it's in there." Sam looked over at the buildings. They were surrounded by scaffolds and covered in tarp which was drumming violently in the wind.

"How do you know..?" Sam looked over at Amy. She didn't seem too sure, and the look on her face told him that was the case. It was as though she was trying to pinpoint something, but it kept slipping away.

"It's not.. Pain, but it's not a beacon of lies either.." She gave a tilted nod, gesturing hesitantly with her hands. "Well, it _is _pain, in a way, but it's more like..." Her hands circled each other as she tried to figure out what exactly it was she was sensing. "It's like the most intense, raw hunger, that is so ravaging that the body aches." There was nothing but confusion in her eyes as she raised her head, clearly, this was not something she sensed every day. Dean shifted his weight onto one leg as he unsheathed his machete, not looking as displeased with the situation anymore. There was even a twitch of a smile on his lips.

"What does that sound like, Sammie?" Sam had also removed his serrated machete from its sheath.

"It sounds like a very hungry newly turned vamp."

* * *

It was almost completely dark inside the not even halfway built building. A dim light from the street attempted to shine through the thick tarps, finding a tear here and there where it could fully stream into the darkness. It was a perfect hiding spot for a vampire, in fact, in a town like this, it was probably the only hiding spot, which could probably explain why it felt like it had no choice but to hunt and keep moving during the day, while construction was going on.

The brothers stepped lightly as they moved through the empty, raw interior of the first floor. They knew that the vampire most likely already knew of their presence, so they had to remain alert. As horrible as it had been, Dean's personal experience with being a newly turned vampire was incredibly useful. Now they did not deceive themselves and think they could sneak up on it, it could probably hear their blood from far away.

Dean had managed to convince Amy to stay outside. She had proven herself useful in finding the monster, but he did not need her getting in the way of the actual hunt. The unicorn was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, nervously looking at the building. Of course, her nervousness was on the behalf of the brothers, even though she would be able to tell if either of them got hurt.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. They are hunters, no?" She began speaking to herself, which was not entirely uncommon for her. After all, one gets tired of the silence. "I have read a hunters' journal, they are skilled, they know how not to get killed by a vampire." Nodding to herself, she smiled slightly. Yes, there was no way that two talented hunters would get themselves killed by a newborn vampire. But if she was so sure they would manage, then why did she find herself moving closer to the building?

Following a trail of dried blood on the concrete, the two hunters wandered through the building. So far they had seen nothing that looked like a vampire could be sleeping there, but they knew that it was there. They turned corner after corner, yet they seemed to be getting nowhere.

"This place it like a fucking _maze_!" Dean hissed through his teeth in an aggressive whisper, looking around cautiously. Sam agreed with nothing but a simple nod, even though he was fairly sure his brother wasn't even looking at him. He blinked and flicked the light of his flashlight over a dark figure on the floor that he had spotted. "Hey, check this out." Dean raised his eyebrows and turned around to look at the object on the floor, and the two moved closer to it. Sitting down on his heels, Dean picked up the filthy sneaker. It both looked and smelled like the owner of it had trekked through the wilderness for days on end, through mud and grime.

"Pleasant.. Well, it's a" Dean had no time to finish his sentence then Sam suddenly stumbled forward, the wheezing roar of a vampire echoing through the building. Instinctively he grabbed the vampire's head, which was far too close to his brothers' neck, trying to pry it off him. It had its arms locked under Sam's, keeping his arms spread out. Grunting, Sam squirmed to get out of the vampire's impossibly powerful grip, but it didn't seem like he was going anywhere. Just as that thought passed through his mind, the vampire threw himself off Sam, most likely after having seen the machete Dean was aiming at it. Stumbling forward, Sam turned around to roll his shoulders, loosening them up after the rough treatment, blade in hand.

"You okay, Sammie?" Dean called out, throwing quick glances at his brother. "Yeah, I'm fine!" That was all he needed to hear. Just as Dean was about to basically launch himself at the vampire in an attack, a blueish white light pierced through it, causing it to wail and writhe in excruciating pain. As soon as the strange blade was pulled out of the vampire, it slumped down onto the ground, its eyes wide open. Amy looked down at it, blinking in confusion before looking over at the two hunters, who seemed equally uncertain of what just happened.

"I _really_ didn't think that would work."


	5. Let me get this straight

Needless to say, the ride back to the inn was less than pleasant. Sam felt as though if he had tried, he could have cut the air because of how heavy it was with tension. Dean's eyes were fixed on the road in an angry stare, although not even he knew exactly what he was unhappy with. They had killed the monster, even though it wasn't technically _they _who killed it, but it was done, and he had no idea how. Once they were parked, Dean got out of the Impala without saying a word. Amy hesitantly stepped out, looking at Dean over the car's roof before throwing an uncertain glance at Sam.

"You're.. Upset with me?" Blinking, she looked back at Dean, who just gave her a flat look as he shut the door of the car, his lips somewhat primmed. Falling silent, she decided that is was probably best not to pry. Obviously, she had done something wrong, and it didn't look like she could rectify it. Sam approached her with a slight smile, patting her shoulder somewhat awkwardly.

"Don't let it get to you, Amy. He's just, well.. I don't think he's _really_ accepted the fact that there are unicorns. And.. Whatever it was you did back there? It reminded him of... All, that." Sam cleared his throat hastily before holding up a finger, gesturing for Amy to wait there as he leapt up the few steps onto the porch, heading into the inn. She watched him hurry off after his brother, and it had been a long time since she'd been this confused. Killing the vampire had been their goal, but when it was dead, they had both stared at her like she had done something strange, something _wrong _even. Heaving a sigh, she leaned against the car with her hands in her pockets, looking down at her bare feet. Hunters were obviously far more complex than she had initially been lead to believe.

"What's your problem, Dean?!" He had shut the door to their room behind him, glaring at his brother who was just twisting off the cap of a beer. Dean let out a snort, slumping down into his seat by the table as he took a swig of the beverage, ignoring Sam completely. Throwing out his hands with a huff and a roll of his eyes, Sam walked towards the table.

"You're treating her like she's some kind of monster that can turn on us any time! She's one of the _good_ guys, Dean..!" With a loud clonk Dean put down his beer on the table, turning in his seat to fully face his brother, locking eyes with him. "Oh yeah? Like how_ angels_ are supposed to be the good guys?"

"She's not an angel!" Dean rose hastily from his seat to thrust his finger against Sam's chest. "No, she's just a_ freaking_ _unicorn_, who just _stabbed_ a vampire, and guess what? It fucking **died**!" Sam sucked in a breath to give Dean a quick comeback, but he drew a blank. Dean took a step back, throwing up his arms in an exaggerated motion. "Heck, we don't even know _what_ she stabbed it with!" Taking a breath, Sam held up his hands with his palms towards the floor, lowering them in a gesture that was asking Dean to take it down a notch. Surprisingly, it seemed to work, as his worked up brother sank back down into his seat, chugging down some more of his beer.

"Okay, I'll admit, that was weird. But can't we just ask her?" Dean let out a snort with a sneer. "Yeah, sure, go ask the unicorn what her magical weapon is, good plan Sammy. Oh, and when she's stabbed you with it, don't come crying to me." Sam yet again failed to come up with a good comeback to that, but he was saved by Amy opening the door, although she did so very slowly, as if the room would explode if she wasn't careful.

"Can I just say that I would never stab Sam unless it was to save my own life?" She tried hesitantly, smiling a little. Dean just rolled his eyes, looking out the window instead of paying attention to Amy. Sam huffed out a chuckle and gave her a nod, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah I know." Closing the door behind her, she glanced over at Dean quickly before looking back at Sam. This whole ordeal was stressing her, and it was obvious. Her shoulders were pulled up and tense, a frown disturbing her otherwise smooth features. It was as though she was expecting to get attacked at any moment.

"You can relax, he's not going to do anything, I promise." She let out a sigh of relief and her lips curved into a smile as she relaxed completely. "Oh, good!" Pulling out a chair, she plopped right down onto it, pulling up both her legs to put her arms around them, hugging them tightly to her chest.

"I almost thought I had killed the wrong person with the way you looked at me." She blinked slowly before frowning; the word 'kill' didn't taste very nice in her mouth, especially when it was said with her being the one who did the killing. Of all things a unicorn was supposed to do, killing was very far away. Sam took the opportunity to ask about what had really happened back at the construction site.

"About that, Amy.."

"Yes?"

"How exactly did you kill that vamp? They shouldn't die from getting stabbed." Jerking her shoulders in a quick shrug, she shook her head lightly. "As I said, I had no idea it would work! I was hoping to keep it still for you two to behead it." She frowned, leaning forward slightly. "That_ is_ how you kill them, right? Beheading? I didn't get that wrong?" Sam shook his head to confirm for her that she hadn't gotten that piece of information wrong.

"But I had no idea it would die!" Finally, Dean decided to get out of his corner to join the fight, leaning over the table to basically stare down Amy with an intense look.

"So, let me get this straight. You stabbed a vamp, with..?" He held up a hand, raising his eyebrows in a way to emphasise his question, hoping Amy would pick up on it. After a few moments of a confused grimace, she perked back up.

"Oh! My horn." Dean leaned back quickly with a defeated smile, looking over at Sam.

"Well there you have it, she stabbed it with her horn." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and looked over at Amy, smiling slightly. "Nevermind him. I thought you said unicorns only.. Used to have horns?"

Now it seemed to sink in for Amy that these two hunters really didn't know squat about unicorns and what's happened to them over the course of centuries. It seemed that only the angel was knowledgeable about her kind. These two didn't even seem to know the very basic things.

"Well, you see, when we were forced to take human form, we obviously could not keep our horns." She let her legs slip off the chair, her hands falling to her lap. "But we did not lose it. A unicorn can not live without its horn. Uhm.." She paused to frown, looking up at the ceiling in the search of a way to describe it, before she thought of something. "Oh, I know! Do you know of an angels' grace, and its appearance?" Sam nodded with a slanted smile. "Yeah, it's a kind of blue energy, isn't it?" Amy nodded and clapped her hands together, glad that she now had somewhere to start off from.

"That's sort of what my horn is! It is my essence, my magic, my life force. An angel can live without its grace, they simply become mortal, but it would kill a unicorn if you were to take their horn." Dean threw back his head as he downed the rest of his beer before clearing his throat, pointing at Amy with the same hand in which he was holding the now empty bottle of beer.

"So you stabbed the vamp, with your.. Essence? Your horn?" Yet again, she nodded, her blue eyes shining with the accomplishment of having them understand.

"Hang on, but an angels' grace is just an energy, if any kind of _matter_, it would be described as liquid. How can you use it as a weapons?"

"Oh, angels can't. Their grace was never meant to leave them. My horn is not truly meant to be _inside _of me. It still wishes to return to the shape of a horn, a spear of sorts." It was all starting to come together for the two hunters, even Dean seemed to have relaxed now, letting that aggravation of not understanding go.

"You're basically a holy creature of purity, aren't you? I mean, the healing, the detecting poison, you're basically the ultimate pure creature?" Amy cleared her throat lightly and let out a laugh. "I wouldn't say ultimate.." Dean raised his eyebrows. "I mean you as a species, not _you_, specifically." Blinking, she stared at Dean for a few moments before the light flickered on in her mind.

"Oh. Oh! Then yes, we are the ultimate beings of purity."

"Which would explain why she was able to kill that vamp. All monsters are impurities, poison even, if you think about it." Sam let out a single huff as a chuckle, holding out his hands.

"She just did what she was meant to do."

* * *

"I don't know man, do you really think it's a good idea?" Dean stroked his chin in discomfort as he and Sam stood by the Impala. Amy was sitting, or rather lying on her back, in the car. Armed with some Danish pastries, she was all set to go. Worldly possessions meant very little when you were a couple of hundred years old.

"Dean, she's a nuke for monsters. What if Crowley finds out that there's a _unicorn_ on the loose, killing off monsters?"

"She's killed _one_. _One_ monster!" Dean held up a finger just to that there was no mistake about just how many monsters this particular unicorn had slain.

"Crowley's killed for less. You want that on your hands?" Dean threw up his hands in a frustrated gesture as he groaned, walking around the car. "_Fine._"

"Let's just take her to the bunker, figure out where else she can stay to be safe, and this whole thing will be over before you know it." Sam tried to comfort his brother with those words as he got into the car with a smile. Dean simply grumbled under his breath as he opened the door, sliding into the car.

"Yeah, like it's ever that easy."


	6. Let's go for a drive

It was a long drive to the bunker. Amy seemed perfectly content to lie in the back and examine all the different little nicks and dents in the car, all the signs of personality and memories. There was a sense and a scent in this car that she enjoyed. It was warm and comforting and the hum of the engine could be compared to a coarse lullaby. This car had meant a lot to someone, and was loved even to this day. It was fascinating how humans grew such strong bonds with things that weren't alive. This car was nothing more than inanimate molecules put together in a most intricate way. Metal, paint, glass, leather, stuffing, thread, rubber, there was nothing unique about this car besides the people who owned it. The human soul truly was a misguided thing, attaching itself to something dead. However, that was one of the qualities she enjoyed in humans. They did not care of what nature had in store for them, they created their own world. They did so through slowly destroying it, but still, one had to admire their tenacity.

Dean seemed to have accepted her existence, something that she was grateful for. While she had wanted to meet hunters ever since she took over the old cabin owned by one, she had kept no delusions that they would not wish to harm her, would they find out what she is. In fact, this had all gone down much better than she had dared to hope. They had not even once tried to seriously attack her. She had been doused in holy water and spent ten minutes trying to clean salt out of her mouth, as well as a few other things. Anything to lay their minds to rest. Luckily she had been able to convince them not to cut her, but simply press the silver against her skin. Not that she was afraid of getting hurt, she simply did not enjoy seeing her own blood. Which probably wasn't all that strange, at least not in human terms. However, unicorns weren't meant to fear their own blood.

Amy was lost in her mind for a long time. Sam seemed to have fallen asleep in the passenger's seat, and there was music in the front, trying to overpower the pleasant hum of the engine. Dean had only stopped the car once so far, to order a burger. Apparently, the little town's healthy eating hadn't impressed the stoic man. After that, they had kept driving. Lights and signs passed them by faster than any clouds on the sky could float across on a windy day. Ah, to lay in the grass, watching the clouds as the breeze caught the trees..

Suddenly the screeching of wheels rang in her ears and the scent of burnt rubber filled her nose as Dean desperately tried to stop the car, his body tense as he drove the brake into the floor of the car. They stopped just inches away from the angel who was standing on the road, white smoke billowing out from in under the car. The angel seemed to have had no doubts that they would stop before they hit him, and he walked up to the car. Dean leaned out of the car window, glaring at his less than concerned friend.

"Cas, what the hell?! Are you trying to get us killed?!" Castiel simply opened up the door, leaning down to push Amy's legs off the seat, forcing her to sit up as he slid into the car himself, closing the door.

"She was in my spot." Dean glanced at Sam who shrugged in response before looking back at Castiel.

"Really, she was in your spot. You could've just zapped in here anyway!" Castiel frowned and turned his head to look at Amy before looking back at Dean. "But then I would have sat on her legs."

"So then you would have sat on her legs, what's the big problem?"

"Why would you want him to sit on my legs?" Both their passengers seemed equally confused as to why Castiel's approach to the car had been a bad idea, and Sam just chuckled with a shake of his head, urging Dean to keep driving. Amy, having had half her newfound bed stolen from her, sank down in her seat with her legs pressed against the back of the drivers' seat. One could barely call it sitting. It was dawning outside, and she looked out the window with a slight smile. She had always enjoyed sunrises. Then again, she enjoyed almost every time of the day, but sunset, night and sunrise had such a magical air about them. A dark, hoarse voice forcefully snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Are you the last of your kind?" Castiel had been watching the unicorn since his arrival, that constant frown giving him a look of being most deeply in thought.

"You mean down here? Bitch I might be." That sentence got a laugh out of Sam who turned his head.

"Where did you learn to say_ that_?" Dean was simply grinning amusedly, tapping the wheel in rhythm with the music. Blinking confusedly, Amy looked at Sam. There was laughter in his voice, and while she did enjoy the sound and sensation of that, his amusement was bewildering.

"I have heard teenagers say it in similar contexts many times." Throwing a glance at Castiel, who wasn't even sure if modern humans had the right understanding of the word 'bitch'. "Well trust me Amy, you're better off not ever, _ever_ saying that again."

"Amen to that." Dean added with a laugh in his voice, a grin still playing on his lips. Sam turned back around, still stifling chuckles from the awkward use of teenage slang. Castiel leaned slightly towards the unicorn while watching the road intently.

"I do not understand why humans feel the need to call each other female dogs." Amy slowly shook her head, her voice a whisper.

"Neither do I."


	7. A special snowflake

Just to be sure, the hunters had tied Amy's scarf over her eyes for the last hour of the drive. Sam had tried to explain that it wasn't because they didn't trust her; it was simply a safety precaution to keep the place truly off the map. Dean however insisted that their lack of trust in her was precisely why they didn't want her to know exactly where their bunker was. She played along to give their minds some peace, but Amy would have had just as little clue as to where they were without the blindfold. Unicorns had a tendency to wander from place to place, but keeping track of where those places were wasn't exactly part of it. Nomads, with not a care in the world of where they were going.

"Home sweet home." Dean smiled as they walked into the reading room of the large building, pulling off his jacket to sloppily hang it over a chair. Sam carefully removed the scarf so that Amy could see, and while she tied it back around her neck, she looked around with fascination. Her old cabin and this magnificent piece of architecture were worlds apart. These books had frames that didn't crumble at the touch, furniture which shone with their polished wooden surfaces; not at all like her withering books and things covered with lint and dust. There was a cheerful smile on her lips as she began examining the rows upon rows of books. Titles she had never seen before, monsters she had never heard about, this place was offering her all the knowledge she could ever want. It was highly unlikely that she would put it to good use, but the knowledge itself was what was enticing her, not the thought of hunting. She had killed one vampire, and that was good enough for her.

"So why did you pop into the car anyway, Cas?" Sam looked over at Castiel, who was concentrating his visual focus on the preoccupied unicorn.

"I did it to observe." Sam raised his eyebrows, glancing off at Amy before looking back at the messy haired angel.

"Observe.. Amy?" Sucking in a breath Castiel looked over at Sam as though he was explaining something really basic to a toddler.

"Yes, I came to observe the first specimen of unicorn found since before the dark ages. Why is that so difficult to comprehend?" Dean returned to the room, armed with a six pack of beer and a smile, putting it down onto the table as he looked at Castiel.

"I take it they're rare?"

"They're_ more_ than rare. _Alpha monsters_, are rare. _Albino lions_, are rare. Unicorns, are not supposed to even _exist _down on earth." Sam pulled out a chair to sit down, grabbing the beer his brother was handing him to twist off the cap, taking a sip.

"So why _are_ they down here?" Castiel moved out his hands before dropping them to thump them against his trench coat in a defeated gesture.

"I believe I mentioned it before that Gabriel was supposed to herd them back to heaven, but he failed in bringing them all back." The two brothers nodded.

"But those that were left, shouldn't they have just, reproduced and gone up in numbers? Why are they so rare?" Dean took a swig of his beer. It seemed that they had stumbled upon something quite complicated, and before they made any kind of move, he wanted to know what exactly they were dealing with. As far as he knew, Castiel was the only reliable source of unicorn lore.

"Unicorns are not normal animals, Dean. They are holy beings and will not breed on a whim." The angel spoke as though he was offended by the mere thought, his eyes narrowed on the brash hunter, who simply held up his hand with a frown. "Geez, sorry."

"No doubt, when they scattered as Gabriel failed to herd them, most of them ended up alone." He glanced over at Amy, frowning slightly as she had taken a seat on top of the low bookcases, leaned against the massive white pillar, a book in hand. The decorative, yet deadly weapon on display had been forced to give up its precious spot, now taking up residence on the floor.

"I believe that they had trouble both adapting to life after the serpent on earth, as well as finding each other. Many undoubtedly went mad with the amount of poison in the world, as tainted as it is. As such, their numbers dwindled." Dean frowned and leaned back in his seat, throwing up his legs onto the table.

"So how long can a unicorn live?"

"If untouched by evil? Forever." Castiel's reply came quickly, though both Sam and Dean had a bit of trouble understanding exactly what the angel meant. "And what exactly counts as being... _Touched by evil_?" Castiel heaved a sigh. It was no wonder that they had no accurate information, what with all the ridiculous stories human kind had made up about these creatures, but it was like talking to monkeys.

"It means, that they can only be slain by great evil. For an example, Crowley would have no trouble killing her. However, if she was to be slashed or shot by a desperate human, she would walk away. Injured, but she would not die. I also believe they are able to end their own lives." Dean raised his eyebrows, glancing off at Amy with his hand moving towards his belt. "You will _not_ test this theory!" Castiel glared at Dean with narrow eyes.

"Not even I have actually seen a unicorn get injured, thus I can not with certainty say that she will not die if you shoot her. I do not believe she would, but this is far too precious a specimen to test such things on." Dean shrugged with a grin, taking a mouthful of beer. This was all highly informative, but also amusing. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before turning his attention fully to Castiel, leaning over the table with his hands locket together.

"Cas, didn't you say they were herded back to heaven, most of them? Why does it matter if they are rare on earth?" Castiel tipped his head slightly to the side to frown at Sam, who held up a hand. "Sorry. _More_, than rare." That seemed to appease the angel who straightened out, relaxing.

"The unicorns in heaven are of no use to us. Heaven is on lockdown, and for all we know, we might not ever be able to open it. That would mean the extinction of one of our Father's most beloved creatures. I can not let that happen."

"Well they wouldn't be extinct, they would still be there, right?" Dean frowned, looking over at Castiel. "A heaven untended to by angels will crumble. We are not there simply for _show_, Dean, we are part of the balance of heaven. If we are not able to open up heaven, it will fall. It will take_ time_, but it will fall."

There was a pause where the words were simply allowed to sink in, before the silence was broken yet again by the raspy voice of the angel.

"Unicorns that have adapted to earth would be able to aid us greatly."

"And how would they be able to aid us, exactly?" Castiel frowned in confusion as he looked over at Dean. Had he not been listening to his information?

"Last time I checked you _liked_ having things with you that could kill monsters and demons. You almost died several times for the demon blade and the colt. Well, there you have a colt!" Castiel motioned towards Amy with a hint of aggression, wishing for Dean to understand the usefulness of the creature they had come across. Amy raised her head and looked back at them with a frown.

"I am technically a filly, and I'm not quite _that_ young."

...

After a couple of hours, Sam had managed to pry Castiel away from his job of observing the unicorn. Retreating to the storage room for privacy, he heaved a sigh before looking at the angel.

"You took me away from observing her to look uncomfortable?" Sam's lips twitched with a smile as he let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

"No, no, I just.. Do you really think she can help us? Because let's be honest, we could use some help."

"I am always honest. Well, I didn't use to be, because I was conceited and mad with power, but now, I am always honest." Sam waved a hand at Castiel. "Yeah yeah I get it. But I mean, should we.._ Train_ her, or something?"

"It would be wise, yes. That way she could efficiently protect herself when they come for her." Sam blinked as he stared at the angel. "When they _come_ for her?" Castiel huffed out a light chuckle with a slight smile.

"We are not the only ones who could have use of a unicorn. If the angels, or demons for that matter, find out that there is an earthly unicorn, they will wish to use it."

"Huh. Is she really that powerful?" Castiel tipped his head to the side with a slight scowl, rolling a shoulder. "It depends on the definition of powerful. Her particular abilities, both as a healer and as a weapon, are immensely useful in the current situation."

"You mean, the war?"

"Yes, the war. Hundreds of angels are being slain; imagine having a creature on your side which has the ability to resurrect them."


	8. The whole story

"What do you mean, she can resurrect angels?" The three of them had gathered in the reading room, sitting by the table with books and newspapers splayed out. It seemed like Dean had caught scent of a case, which he had been researching while Sam helped Amy get comfortable in Kevin's old room. Getting comfortable apparently meant filling the room with as many books as the brothers would allow her to take.

"I mean exactly what I said. Unicorns are able to resurrect angels." Dean put down his burger with a bewildered scowl, peering up at Castiel. "But _why_?"

"God works in mysterious ways."

"That's not good enough Cas."

"How am I to know what was in God's mind when he created the unicorns? I was made not to question his work, remember?" Dean huffed out a 'yeah yeah' as he picked up his burger again, biting into it.

"Anyway," the angel wished to get away from the subject of his Father as soon as possible. "with her on whichever side of the war, that side would lead a battle which they are certain to win." That, was truly not a good thing. They did wish to stop the war in general to avoid any more bloodspill, and having one faction slaughter the other ones with no fear of death.. It would be a bloodbath like none had ever seen before. All subtlety would be lost and this still somewhat tame war would turn into something that would sully the names of angels for eternity. Humans already had a bad reputation of slaughtering each other, the last thing the world needs is angels doing the exact same thing. The war of the angels would leak out into the human society, religious warfare would heat up again, and soon there would be nothing but death.

It was an apocalyptic scenario in its own right.

The three of them remained silent for some time. While it was a good thing that they now had a nuke in their hands, it would prove catastrophic if it slipped out of theirs and into the hands of the enemy. One could argue that Amy was not even on their side, since they had yet to tell about the situation.

"Why did she even agree to come with us?" Sam looked as though he had just realized how strange it was for a girl to so willingly come with complete strangers. In fact, there were a few things that had been.. Beyond odd. She had not fought back in the least when Dean pushed her up against the wall, and she had let Castiel examine her without even as much as a comment. When tied up, not once had she asked them to release her, and when they asked her to come with them because it was important that she did, she had not even asked to go back to her home before they left. Castiel cleared his throat lightly, looking down as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"It might be because she is under the impression that you are my servants."

"What?!" Dean blurted out with the rest of his burger only partially chewed in his mouth. Quickly washing it down with beer, he swallowed and leaned over the table, glaring at the angel, who was skilfully avoiding eye contact.

"She thinks we're _what_?!"

"My servants, but, there is a logical explanation." Castiel tried, but Dean just frowned.

"Really, servants? Fucking hell."

"I did not tell her that you are! Dean, listen to me. Angels are above unicorns in rank, naturally. She knew you were connected to me, as I had met with her earlier." Dean and Sam raised their eyebrows, throwing a quick glance at each other before looking back at Castiel.

"I told you I was going to do some research. When I had sufficient proof that it was a unicorn in the town, I decided to find her."

"Without us?" Castiel sucked in a deep breath to speak.

"I did not meet her for particularly long. I showed up by her, told her she should not be alarmed if two men, I gave quite accurate descriptions it seems, approaches her. Then I left. However, she is a holy being, and she most likely knew at once that I am an angel. Which makes you.." He motioned towards the brothers with a sad look, as though he was too ashamed to say it out loud.

"Your_ manservants_?"

"So.. Because she knew we were coming, and you were the one who told her about it, she thought you had sent us there, and that we're under your command?" Sam raised his eyebrows, looking over at him with a slightly less confused expression. Castiel gave a firm nod.

"Yes."

"So tell her we're not under your command!" Dean gestured towards Castiel. He had been through enough times where people tried to boss them around, and now their friend was posing as some kind of commander? He wasn't having any of it. Castiel heaved a sigh and gave Dean a nod, scowling as he vanished.

It had been nice, having someone's trust like that again. Amy hadn't questioned him; she had not even looked slightly uncomfortable. It was almost as back in the old days, when he was the leader of the garrison. Although now he hadn't been the leader of a large group of skilful and trained angels, but an oblivious unicorn. None the less, he had enjoyed it.

It felt as though the boys all too often forgot where he came from. He was an angel of the lord, not their errand boy they could send out and call whenever they liked. At least that was how it was before. As much as he disliked admitting it, his time with the Winchesters had made him partial to them, and for some reason, that particular emotion caused him to want to be there for them. He enjoyed being useful, and he truly enjoyed it when they appreciated him.

Amy looked up from her book as Castiel appeared by the foot of the bed, and she wriggled to sit up more straight with a smile, her legs sprawled out on the bed.

"Hello."

"Yes, hi.." There was a hesitation in his voice but he then shook it off. "I am afraid that there has been a misunderstanding. Sam and Dean are not, my manservants." Amy blinked and tipped her head to the side with a confused look in her eyes.

"Then why would you know of their arrival?"

"I am their friend. I simply did not wish for you, or them, to get injured during your first encounter. They mean well, and their intentions _are_ pure, but.." Castiel let out a slight chuckle with the tiniest of smiles as he cocked his head a bit. "Well, they can be fairly ungraceful with their approach."

"Huh." Amy looked up at the angel, sitting there in silence for a few moments before smiling. "I didn't know it was allowed for angels to be friends with humans! I am glad the rules have changed."

"I am not certain that the rules have changed, but rules are... Not present at this time." That smile on her lips faded away as she tried to make sense of what the other had just said. The rules of God and heaven weren't present? She had never heard of such a thing. Then again, she had been raised in peace until her parents decided that they had stayed on this earth for long enough, and passed on to join and frolic among the many souls in heaven.

"I thought heaven was kind of big on rules."

"Oh, heaven was big on rules, then.." He swallowed dryly and sucked in a deep breath. "Then I broke them, and many other angels followed my lead. It was a difficult time for all of us.. And it still is." Amy shook her head with a frown, moving to stand up on the bed.

"I don't get it. Why would you go against our Father?"

"I did not rebel against our Father, I rebelled against the angels which ruled after his departure."

"He's _gone_? This is not what I was taught by my parents." Castiel raised his eyebrows as he looked at her. "So you are a second generation?" She nodded, running a hand over her hair.

"Yes, I am. My parents created me as their legacy. They have returned to heaven since my birth." Castiel gave a nod, a slight smile making his lips twitch. "They will be happy there." Amy sat back down on the bed, looking up at Castiel expectantly.

"I would like to know what is going on. Obviously, it's not at all as peaceful as I was lead to believe." Patting the bed, she urged the other to sit down, which he somewhat reluctantly did.

"It is a difficult story to explain." Castiel's voice dragged on a sigh, his gaze lowering. It was not a story he could shorten down if it was to be told. The girl simply poked a finger against his shoulder with a smile.

"Well, we've sort of got all time in the world."

* * *

It took a long time to explain it all, from his first arrival to earth, to them putting a stop to the apocalypse, to the leviathans and eventually, to the current war that was going on down on earth, with angels murdering each other for power. He spoke of all the people that lost their lives in the battles, of all the sacrifices they all had made in an attempt to keep the peace. How they had been tricked and lied to, and then done the same to each other, but he did leave out quite a few details. Everything was explained in batches, the general story without the vital details that could prove useful for the enemy, in case she got captured. It was a scenario he would fight to avoid, but he had to remain realistic about what could happen.

"So you wish for me to stay here so that the angels don't get hold of me?" Castiel gave her a firm nod, and she leaned back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, thinking about her possible options.

"We also need to keep you safe from demons. Crowley is cruel, but he is smart, and you would be useful in any bargains he attempts to strike with the angels." Heaving an exaggerated sigh, Amy threw up her hands.

"It's so complicated! I am just, a unicorn. There's plenty of stronger creatures out there that would be of far more use." Castiel shook his head.

"Not in this war. This is a war of angels, and you have the ability to resurrect them. That is what makes you so desirable, should they realize that you exist." Lifting a foot, she pressed it against his shoulder. He made no protest, simply swayed from side to side as she put on more and released the pressure on his shoulder.

"So, they don't know that I do exist?"

"No, but it is only a matter of time before they find out. Healing that woman, who was sure to die in the presence of many, was a signal out to the rest of the world that there was something good in that town." Amy frowned slightly, looking down.

"I suppose finding a stabbed, dead vampire isn't going to make them lose interest.."

"No." He did feel unhappy with the fact that they had to deprive the unicorn of her complete freedom, but there was little else they could do. It was essential to keep her out of their enemies' arsenal.

"Do not worry, Amy. We will protect you." Glancing up at him, she smiled slightly. "Thank you, Castiel." It was odd to think that she had been dragged into something so huge. Technically she wasn't even a part of it yet, but according to Castiel, it was simply a matter of time. Only two days ago she had been in her home, reading books about monsters and rituals, never having met any in her whole life. And in just two days, she had killed a vampire, met two hunters, as well as an angel. She had spoken to an angel of the lord, something that her parents had feared their entire lives. After all, it was an angel who let darkness into the world, and another angel who had caused them to scatter across the globe.

Castiel got up, gave her a nod and then vanished. Picking up her book, she sighed softly with a smile, looking down at the pages. Life as a hunter was so dramatically different to what she had imagined, at least as far as she could tell. They were not heroes; they were human. Humans who struggled and clawed their way through life while leaving corpses in their wake. Human who cared about the fate of the world, who cared about each other, in a way that she was uncertain she would ever comprehend.

However, it seemed like her peaceful way of life was over. She was painfully aware of all the misery in the world, the battles that were being fought, and while she could not see herself joining the actual battle..

She would do her best to be of use.


	9. A chance to explore

The two hunters headed out to a case that they expected to take about a week all in all, leaving Amy on her own in the bunker. Well, almost on her own. Castiel was around every now and then, though he seldom said much after their long talk; he preferred to simply observe her, which she didn't mind. After all, she was a rare creature, and there was no doubt in her mind that Castiel was determined to figure out just how this earth-adapted second generation unicorn behaved in its everyday life, what it did, what it said. He had made one comment full of longing about how he missed 'Peebee and jays' while Amy was making herself a jam sandwich, but she had no clue what he was talking about. However, she had given her condolences to him about the loss of his Peebee and Jays. Perhaps they were two people, who knew.

There were so many wondrous items in the bunker, as they called it. Amy's image of a bunker was very different from the brothers', but she hadn't mentioned it to them. Bunkers to her were narrow, dingy little wet places full of soldiers. This was a palace in comparison, and she could spend hours going through the storage room, looking through all the items, all the information.

However, there was something that kept catching her attention in the storage room. It was faint and feeble, but it was there. It was a sensation like a dark mist floating over the floor, so vague that she could never follow it. A presence had been burned into the room, its essence having seeped into the walls as it only did after a long time. Running a hand through her dull light brown hair, she frowned slightly. It was driving her somewhat mad, this sensation. Shuffling about in a pair of dark grey cotton trousers, she narrowed her eyes in her search, peeking in between all the various objects on all the shelves. The rest of her outfit was the same; an off-white top with a red plaid shirt on top of that. Her feet were bare and the floor was cold, but it had never bothered her, as her steps were barely heavy enough to stir the dust below.

That's when she found it. There was no proper wall to be seen between two of the metallic bookcases, albeit she was fairly sure that was not what they were supposed to be called. Grabbing two shelves, she tugged hard with a grunt, feeling them give way. They slid open like secret doors to reveal a place she could only have imagined in a nightmare; a single table and chair in the middle of a devils trap, surrounded by various weapons and tools of torture.

Backing up quickly, she shut the shelved doors with a frown. Surely they did not torture. This was simply not possible. They had seemed so nice and friendly, surely they could not know of this horrible place hiding in their storage room.

However, she knew that was not the case, and she kept backing up before turning around to hurriedly exit the room, shutting the door swiftly before leaning against it, as though there was something dangerous inside. The sensation had been much stronger near the table, they had kept something there. Something evil, something wicked and cruel beyond belief, beyond imagination. Something that was not there anymore.

Heading towards her room with a nervous spring in her step, she kept her eyes low. Had they killed whatever they had held captive? Had they released it? She had trusted these people with her life and her safety, but had it truly been a wise decision to trust an angel and his word? They had kept something in the bunker, something so dark that it had tainted the very walls that confined it. They were out of their league, or was this simply how stubborn humans were? Sitting down on her bed, she heaved a sigh. The last thing she wished to do was to distrust them. In fact, she enjoyed her new home much more than her last one, there was more life here. While they could confuse her a lot, and use a rather aggressive tone of voice, she could see that they had nothing but good intentions. They had not lied to her, not yet. If they did, she would be able to tell. Throwing herself onto her back in the bed, she flung up her arms with a groan.

"This is confusing!" Her arms bounced off the bed once before laying still beside her as she stared up at the ceiling. It was not as though she could just, run away, go back home and ignore everything. No, she now knew of all the hardship, and she had to admit that the hunters and angel were growing on her, even though they didn't make a lick of sense most of the time.

"What am I supposed to do?" Frowning slightly, not even she was sure of just who she was talking to. Her parents perhaps, or God himself. Maybe she was not talking to anyone in particular, she wasn't sure. Heaving a sigh, she rolled over onto her side, looking over at the books stacked high on the floor. This was all so complicated.

* * *

Sam and Dean returned after five days on the hunt. Apparently it had been some lowly demons stirring up trouble, and the hunt had gone off without any major accidents or trouble.

"Hey, Amy! You there?" Dean called out as they walked into the hallway, kicking off their shoes.

"We're back!" Sam added with a smile, heading on in before his brother to check the reading room first. "I'm here!" Amy smiled as she hopped off the low bookcase. The ornamental weapon was still on the floor, and it was obvious that its former place had become Amy's favourite spot.

"I got you something." Raising her eyebrows, she intently followed each movement Sam made with his hands, which were reaching into his bag to pull out a small white carton. "It was, Danish pastries you liked, wasn't it?" He asked hesitantly, hoping he had gotten it right.

"Hey, what about me?" Dean threw out his arms with a scowl. "Don't I get treats?"

"You've stopped for pie twice during this trip, you've had your treats." Dean paused for a moment before shrugging, Sam did have a point. Amy was intensely trying to peel off the tape that kept the carton closed, but her short nails weren't much good for the task.

"Here, let me help." Fishing out the demon blade, he swiftly cut through each bit of tape on the carton with a smile before putting it away again.

"Unique, magical and essential weapon, now degraded to kitchen duty." Dean said jokingly with a grin. "Ha ha, very funny." Sam rolled his eyes, but he was amused with the comment, his smile told her that much. There were so many subtle things in the brothers' relationship, it was fascinating to watch. However, at the moment, there was a Danish pastry craving her attention.

Sitting down on top of the table, chewing contently on a piece of her treat, she looked at the two, who were busy downing a meal of their own. A bought meal, as per usual. Cooking didn't seem like a reoccurring thing in the bunker.

"Was the hunt fun?"

"Fun, might not be the right word to describe any hunt." Sam chuckled out, brushing back some hair in behind his ear with a hand. "It was, intense."

"It was easy though. Just lowlife demons with too much time on their hands, that kinda' deal." Dean's voice was slightly muffled by the food still in his mouth, but she didn't mind. It had to be infuriating, being forced to eat just to survive. _It must take up so much of their time_, she thought to herself. _Sleeping too, so much time gone to waste.._

"So what have you been doing, Amy?" She flinched and looked up as she was addressed, smiling at Sam. "I've been reading and going through the storage room, mostly." Liking her lips, she then flicked up a finger. "Oh! Did you know that you do not have a single book or item connected to my kind? Why is that?"

Dean frowned and leaned back in his seat. "Didn't Castiel explain how you're not even supposed to exist down here?"

"Yes, sure, but I do, and so do others, or well, at least they have. Surely someone must have written something accurate?" They both shook their heads. "Look, Amy, unicorns have never really.. Well, they are fairy tale creatures, or so most people thought. I don't think any hunters, or like here, the Men of Letters, even considered your kind_ plausible_ to exist." Amy's shoulders slumped slightly and she looked down at her pastry.

"Oh.." It was strangely upsetting, finding out that your kind had been completely dismissed to fairy tales, that there was no one who believed in your existence. Sam noticed the drop in the girl's mood and got up to walk over to her with a smile. "Hey, it's okay, alright? Besides, did I mention that your kind are the dreams and hopes of a lot of kids out there?" This was enough to get the unicorn to perk up with a smile.

"Really? We are?" Sam nodded, sitting down on the table next to her. "Sure are. Kids all over the world wish for unicorns to be real. Imagine their faces if they found out you are real!" Amy let out a laugh as she nodded. The thought of children becoming happy simply because of her existing was more than enough to cheer her up. After all, she was partial to children, due to their pure innocence.

"I know I can't do it now, but one day.." Smiling, she looked down at the floor.

".. I'd like to tell at least one child, that I am real."


	10. No air for the good guys

Amy hadn't mentioned the discovery of the dungeon to anyone, as she hadn't been able to find the right moment to ask. She wasn't even entirely sure how to phrase the question. How did one ask their new acquaintances if they had kept something from Hell in their dungeon? Just thinking the word made her skin crawl and she shuddered lightly. Hell, it was an abomination, and so were all the things that came from it. Wicked, cruel things that caused nothing but misery and death wherever they went. Shaking her head, she trotted contently through the halls from her bedroom to the reading room.

"Are we leaving soon?" She jumped as Castiel suddenly appeared in front of her with a sharp stare. "Leaving to where."

"Easy Cas, she's just coming with us on a food run." Castiel turned around to face Dean, who was busy cleaning out his guns. "We're leaving as soon as I'm done with this."

"I do not think this is a wise decision."

"Your _face_ isn't a wise decision." Castiel blinked in confusion and looked over at Amy with a frown, who shrugged with her hands held up and eyebrows raised. She had no clue what Dean meant with that comment.

"Come on Cas" Sam grinned as he stood leaning against the doorframe. "It's just a food run, not a hunt."

"I still believe it to be an unwise decision." Amy looked up at Castiel with a smile. "Come with us, then! That will allow you to keep an eye on me." Sam looked over at the angel, who seemed to think about it. It was better than leaving Sam and Dean in charge of her on their own. They were capable, but it was a risk he was not willing to take. He still had to locate more unicorns, to be able to ensure the species' survival.

"Alright. But_ just_, a food run, nothing more."

"We'll have to have lunch at some point, but yeah, nothing more." Dean assured his friend, who disappeared with a nod. Amy hopped up to sit on the table, idly picking up one of the gun pieces to examine it, with Dean casting concerned glances. Not that she could manage to break it or harm anyone with it, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

"Dean, hurry your ass up or we're never going to get there." Sam tossed the jacket to his brother, which flopped over his head as he failed to catch it. Grunting, he pulled it off his head. "Alright, just let me put this together."

* * *

Castiel was already sitting in the car once they got outside, waiting for them to arrive. The angel had seemed to become more partial to joined travels, as while it took longer for him to get there, he wouldn't have to wait so awfully long for them to arrive. Amy walked around the car to the driver's side, which was where Castiel was sitting. Leaning down as she opened the door, she smiled at him.

"You're in my spot." That got a chuckle out of the angel as he scooted over to the passengers' side of the back seat, holding up a finger. "I understood that reference."

Amy just grinned as he flopped herself into the car, sliding down to press her legs against the back of the front seat. It didn't look even slightly comfortable to the angel, who frowned at her way of sitting. Looking at the seat in front of him, he slowly slid down, awkwardly putting his legs against it to mimic the way she sat. Grunting softly, he kept shifting, trying to find a way to remain comfortable.

"How can this be your preferred position? It is _anything_ but comfortable." Amy only now realized what the other was up to and she blinked at him before laughing amusedly. He looked almost as though he had been shoved into an invisible basket with the way he was curled up. He even seemed to have trouble getting out of said position, accidentally kneeing Sam in the back of his head.

"Hey!" The long haired brother rubbed his head, glaring back at Castiel who had only just managed to straighten out. "Forgive me. Clearly, unicorns are more flexible than human vessels." There was a strain in his voice, almost as though he had been working out. Sam glanced over at Amy with a frown before looking back at Castiel, only to turn back around.

"Well don't try to_ copy_ her, then."

* * *

It was an uneventful drive to the nearest town. They all got to the grocery store with nothing remarkable happening, besides Amy being somewhat unsure about using the revolving doors. Her insecurity forced them to open the fire escape door next to them, usually only used when the revolving doors weren't working, in order to get her to come inside. Castiel assured her that his first experience with revolving doors as a human had been much more unfortunate as well as inconvenient than hers.

Sam and Dean split up as they went into the store, despite Castiel insisting that it would be wiser to stay in a group, in case there was an unexpected attack. The angel had been more concerned about such things lately, but it was no wonder. There was a war going on between angels, and right now they were walking around in the open with a nuke and a deserter.

Once they had bought what they needed, they headed back outside. It was a bit of a walk to the car as it was a busy day in the town, and all the parking near the store had been taken. Amy was proudly holding a bag of fruit and pastries to her chest, happy that she had been allowed to buy whatever she liked, as long as it only took up the space of one small bag. Of course, she had filled that bag to the brim, and the plastic was even beginning to tear in some places. As they walked, it suddenly felt like time slowed down, and she blinked slowly. In the crowd, there was a young man walking towards them. His hair was so lightly blonde that it bordered on being white, and his skin was just as fair, the only plague of his skin being dark, reddish bags under his eyes. The clothes he wore were much like what any other human male would wear, a white t-shirt with an open, sky blue plaid shirt. He wore regular black jeans and white sneakers, nothing remarkable at all. She felt unable to look away even as the male turned his head to smile at her as he came closer. Everything felt so slow, even the lack of air, the inability for not only her but also the angel in front to breathe. Castiel reached to grasp his own throat as he nearly collapsed, Amy feeling her knees grow weak as she desperately tried to suck in air. It was as though their lungs had stopped, filled with concrete, but as the man passed them by in the crowd, they both gasped loudly.

"What is going on?! Cas, Cas! You okay?" Castiel was gasping for air, still crouched over as Dean put a hand on his shoulder with a concerned scowl. Lifting his head, he looked up at Dean before glancing back at Amy only to look up at Dean again, straightening up. "Yes, I am fine. I, do not however know what happened." Amy had a bewildered look in her eyes as she was basically hyperventilating, her grip on the bag so tight that her fingers sank through the soft plastic. It took Sam shaking her with a firm grip on her shoulders to snap her out of it, and she jumped.

"Ah! What?" She looked much like a deer caught in headlights, looking from one to the other to the third with flickering eyes.

"What the heck happened? Did_ you_ do something?"

"What? Me? No! Why would I make myself unable to breathe, that's just stupid." Dean heaved a sigh and shook his head. "Whatever, it's over. Let's get back to the car, we'll get lunch on the way home."

* * *

"So we've got no idea what happened." Amy shook her head with a slight frown. "I haven't got a clue."

"So no one did anything? No one did anything strange that you saw?" This got her thinking. The young man had done nothing but smile at her as he walked past them. "Does smiling count as strange?" Dean rolled his eyes and opened up his box of Chinese takeout, digging into it with a fork.

"Smiling doesn't count as strange, no. In human terms it might be strange, but not in monster terms." He scooped up some noodles into his mouth to chew contently. Sam didn't seem as convinced, however.

"I don't know, Dean. We've met _plenty_ of subtle monsters before." Castiel hadn't said a word since they got back. He was leaning against the massive pillar, watching a chair intensely with his chin resting against his fist. It didn't make any sense. He as an angel wasn't technically required to breathe, and while he was in a human vessel, a temporary lack of air should not have weakened him to the point that it had. It had almost felt like being pierced with an angel blade, without the pain, just the sheer terror of ceasing to exist, the inability to do anything about it. He had never heard of a monster that could do that to angels, and this had done it to a unicorn as well.

"If something did this, it is safe to assume that it was not a regular monster." Dean frowned as he looked over at Castiel. "So what, we've got another pagan God on our hands or something?" He shook his head in a slow motion, looking down at the floor in thought.

"I do not think so."

"Kali the Destroyer, maybe? Or something like her?" Sam suggested, fork in hand as he was trying to enjoy his meal. "They're more powerful than pagan Gods, aren't they?" Heaving a sigh, the angel shook his head yet again. "It would make no sense for them to do something like that. Besides, I am fairly sure we all would recognize Kali." Amy put up her hand.

"I wouldn't?" Castiel sucked in a breath.

"_Almost_, all of us."


	11. An ancient book

"Hey, Aunt Carolyn, I'm back!" The door slammed behind him as he had kicked it with a muddy boot, letting the heavy bag slide off his shoulder and onto the floor with a rattling thud. Using the toes of his boot to pull off the other, he threw a quick glance across the hallway to the kitchen, which was empty of anything but dirty dishes.

"Aunt Carolyn?" He called up the stairs once he had gotten his boots off, yanking off his cap and hanging it on the knob of the banisters in one swift motion.

"I'm up here!" A voice rang from upstairs and he let out a chuckle with a shake of his head, returning to the hallway to haul his bag back onto his shoulder.

"I found something good you might wanna feast your eyes on!" He wore a grin as he marched up the stairs with heavy steps. Taking a turn into the study come library, he dunked down the bag onto the desk. The woman who was sitting behind it had obviously been working on some papers, and she glanced up at him without moving her head, her eyes narrow as she adjusted her reading glasses.

"You know I love it when you get all excited but what have I _told you_ 'bout the bag?" He instantly lifted the bag off the desk and cleared his throat, cocking his head before putting it down on the floor. "Alright, so what do you have for me boy?" Digging around in the bag while sitting on his heels, the man grinned.

"I chased a poltergeist down into an old sinkhole. No worries, all dried up, but there were tunnels. It led me to a buried old chapel." The woman raised an eyebrow as she leaned over the desk, trying to keep an eye on her nephew and whatever he was digging for. "Don't tell me you found some sorta' cursed object." He shook his head and then grinned widely. "Here it is."

Standing up, he was holding an old wooden case. It had strange inscriptions on it, ones they had never seen before, but it didn't look like it was meant to keep anything sealed inside.

"A box?" Carolyn remained unimpressed as she glanced up at her nephew with her eyebrows raised. He quickly proceeded to put the box down onto the table and lift the lid, but once he grabbed said lid, he was careful with removing it. Inside of the box, there laid a book. It was an ancient thing with a crest burned into the weathered old leather, and it had no clasp, it was simply tied closed with long strands of flexible bark. She sucked in a soft gasp, reaching into the box as though she was about to pick up the most fragile of infants.

"Now _what _have you stumbled upon, Noah..?" Gingerly placing the book down in front of her, she stroked two fingers along the old hide. "This seems to be as old as it looks."She stated calmly, adjusting her glasses again before leaning over to aim her desktop lamp at the book. Noah had pulled up a chair, scratching at his cheek idly, finding his stub suddenly irresistibly itchy. It was a bad habit of his, but he couldn't help himself.

"What do you think the leather is made of? I'd guess boar hide, but I'm not sure." She hummed softly in thought, looking the book over, not even thinking about opening it just yet. "It's layered leather, so it could be a combination of hides. Whatever the creator of this book could kill was turned into this cover, that's my guess." Noah leaned forward over the desk to look at the book more closely.

"Think you can open it without breaking the bark?" She frowned and leaned back in her seat, stroking her chin pensively, a frown causing fine wrinkles to appear around her eyes. She was only just past 50, and the years had been kind to her, at least when one thought about what those years had contained for her and her family. Her hair was just shy of black, a truly dark chestnut with strands of grey as the only highlights. Her eyes were of a steely, determined silver with speckles of gold, and her skin, which was dotted with freckles, gave the illusion of a tan. Noah, who sat across the table, didn't quite share her features, but almost. His eyes were a dusty gold and his hair somewhat lighter and duller in colour, but not by much. An old bruised cut was healing on his cheek, but was well enough to not need any kind of medical attention. While his aunt was lean and slim, with only as much muscle as she had to have, he was of a more muscular frame. Not quite of the bodybuilding type, but enough to steer away from ever being called skinny. Dragging a hand over his short hair, he watched his aunt as she remained deeply in thought, her eyes fixed on the book.

"It _would_ be an awful shame having to cut such pretty bark. If it's extinct, a museum could pay a hefty price for it." Noah barked out a laugh, grinning as he weighed back on his chair. "Well" He spoke as he let his chair thud down onto the carpet again before standing up. "I'll give you some time to untwine that there bark. I'll be back with a glass of whiskey lickety-split."

Carolyn smiled as she watched her nephew leave the room before returning her attention to the book. Pulling out a drawer, she picked up some specialized tweezers, and got to work with untangling the dry old bark, eager to get into the book.

* * *

It had taken her two hours to carefully unwrap the bark, freeing the book. It had been so tightly tied around the leather that it had left deep marks in the hide. It was a shame, but there was nothing she could do about that. Having sent Noah off with the bark to a specialist they knew, she opened up the book. Her nephew had been highly unhappy with not getting to be there when they opened up the book, but they needed the possible money that the bark could offer, and their acquaintance specialist had only had time today to examine the bark.

"We all have to make sacrifices.." She chuckled to herself and took a swig of her whiskey before putting it away, leaning in close to carefully examine the pages. The writing was not in any language she recognized off the bat, so she focused her attention on what the pages themselves were made out of. The book looked as though it was made before the first book. Its construction material was so primitive that it was hard to believe whoever had made it had been able to access anything that was commonly used to make bound books. However, it had been put together in a way that led her to believe that the person who made it knew how to make an actual, proper book, but lacked the materials, as well as tools needed. It was bound together at the back by strips of leather which had been beautifully tied, and the pages themselves were sturdy yet sheer, and she had to take a closer look. Pulling open a drawer, she fished out a magnifying glass to take a proper look at the old page, in order to figure out exactly what it was made out of. It hadn't felt nor looked like any wooden material. And she soon discovered why.

"Well would ya look at that." Huffing out a laugh, she leaned back in her seat. The pages were made out of skin. A very thin and sheer kind of skin, and not from just _any_ animal. She had to test it to be sure, but as far as she could tell; those pages were made out of _human _skin.

* * *

"Elymian? Are you sure, Carolyn?" Sam frowned as he spoke, holding his phone firmly to his ear. He was leaning against the Impala while waiting for Dean to pay for gas. The two of them were out on a simple salt and burn hunt, and Amy had elected to remain at home. After last time's scare, she seemed a tad more eager to keep herself safe.

"Yes, I mean no, I don't doubt that your research is correct, but I've never even heard of Elymian. Is it an actual language?"

"A really _obscure_ one at that." Sam winced and turned around, finding Crowley on the other side of the car. He glanced around to check if the demon had come alone, blinking in confusion as to what exactly the King of Hell was doing there. Frowning, he narrowed his eyes on the other. "Excuse me?"

Holding up a finger, Crowley made his way around the car.

"Elymian! It's an obscure language. Really old, before the whole charade with the son of God and all that mumbo-jumbo." Crowley gestured with his hands as he spoke, clearly thinking very lowly of that whole ordeal.

"What? Yes, I'm still here, sorry, I just got, interrupted." With that, he turned his back on the other, who blinked and held out his hands. "Such treatment! And here I was going to help." Sam huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he turned around again.

"Yeah right, you want to help. Because you're such a _swell chap_?" Crowley tasted the words, weighing them in his hands. "Hmmm whichever you want to call it _point is_, I'm here to help." His lips were curved with one of those knowing smiles of his. There was no doubt that he had something in store, and Sam knew better than to trust a slippery eel like Crowley. He held up a palm towards Crowley as a way to tell him to stay there as he walked away himself, wishing to end the conversation in privacy.

"Just bring the book to us and we'll see what we can do. Yeah. Keep safe." Hanging up, he shoved the phone back into his pocket as he turned around, only to flinch as Crowley were mere inches away from him. "I have to say, I find this _mysterious air_ about you very intriguing, Moose." Crowley spoke with a sneer, as composed as ever. It didn't matter who the demon spoke to, there was always something flirtatious in his voice, and it never failed to make his skin crawl.

"Come now, do you _actually_ believe that there is some _dusty old tome_ in that bunker of yours that will help you translate _Elymian_?" He barked out a laugh as if he had just suggested that an ant could defeat a lion. Sam hesitantly glanced about, what was taking Dean so long?

"What do you mean, why wouldn't there be?" Crowley narrowed his eyes on the tall hunter.

"Do you even _know_ when Elymian went extinct?"

"Uhh.." Crowley rolled his eyes. "I didn't think so. Well, good luck, call me when you need me." With a cheeky wink, the demon disappeared. Sam almost felt the need to wash out his mouth simply from talking to the other, he really left a bad taste in his mouth, and it was not just the picture of Crowley and Bobby kissing that was haunting him.

"What's up with you?" Dean frowned as he walked towards the car. His brother looked somewhat pale, which was never good. "Uhhh.. Well, Crowley stopped by." Dean instinctively reached for the demon blade that sat comfortably in his belt, looking around. "Dean, Dean! He's gone, it's fine."

"Well, what did he want?" Sam chuckled and rolled his shoulders with a wondering expression. "He said he wanted to help."

"Help with what? With the_ book_? Yeah right." Dean huffed out a chuckle with a slanted grin as he slid into the car. Sam followed his brother's lead, sitting down in the Impala, closing the door.

"_Apparently_, we're not going to be able to translate it." Sam spoke with slight sarcasm as he looked over at Dean with a smile and raised eyebrows. "What? Come on, we're _Men of Letters_, why _wouldn't_ we be able to translate it?"

* * *

"I can't translate this." Castiel looked up from the book that he was holding in his hands. Carolyn looked less than impressed as she stood with a hand on her hip. She glanced over at Dean, who frowned.

"Of course you can, you're an angel!" Dean motioned towards Castiel, who just gave him a sour look. "I am an angel, not a translator. Enochian is a commonly used angelic language, while Elymian is an incredibly obscure and narrow language." Dean heaved a sigh, pulling out a chair to sit down. The table was full of books that were open as they had spent hours trying to find anything about the Elymian language. Castiel had been their last hope.

"Where does it even come from?" The angel took a breath, stroking a thumb over the book. "It is said, that the Elymi were a people descendant from the Trojans. After the war, they were led by the hero Acestes to Sicily, where they settled. Their lives and culture were, shrouded in mystery. Their language went extinct around the third to the first century before Christ. Its origin remains unknown to all." With those words, the angel looked up at the group of people.

"It is surprising that there is a book in this language, as bound books such as these were not invented until the fifth century. There were earlier forms of books, sure, but this is quite the intricate work.." Castiel's voice lowered to a mumble as he examined the book, lifting the cover and looking at the pages, the binding on the back, everything. Carolyn huffed and took the book back from the angel.

"So, that's it then? We're never going to find out what it says in here?" Sam hesitated slightly before speaking up. "Well, there is.."

"No Crowley!" Dean cut his brother short. "We're worked enough with that slimy bastard!"

"Did Crowley say that he is able to translate this?" Carolyn looked over at Sam, determination clear in her eyes. She wasn't about to give up so easily. "Then let's summon him! After all this time I'm sure you boys have a trick or two up your sleeves, you know, to get him to _behave_." Dean glared at the woman before heaving a defeated sigh. "_Fine_. But not here, we'll summon him somewhere else." Carolyn held out her arms with a smile, looking at the others in the room.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go summon the King of Hell!"

* * *

There was no precaution too small when it came to summoning the King of Hell. Crowley had never been the one to appear and attack, but they could never be sure. Doing something they don't expect would be right up Crowley's street, and thus, they had to expect everything. They had all, save for Amy, gathered in an old barn that Carolyn's family owned. It was expertly warded against both angels and demons with devils traps in the most unlikely of areas. The most important ones however were hidden under a fake floor, and on the ceiling.

"Alright, are we ready to go?" Above them on the flat ceiling there was a massive devils trap, with smaller ones built into it. It was of her own design, and it worked like a charm. In fact, that ceiling was built about three meters below the actual top of the barn, for the sole purpose of holding a trap like that. Carolyn was meticulous and intent on keeping what little family she had left alive, and she was not going to let a slipup with a devils trap ruin everything.

Dean was standing by a table with all the ingredients for summoning Crowley, the last thing needed was simply a spark. As the ingredients flashed with the flame, it only took a few moments before Crowley appeared with a smirk.

"Changed our minds, have we?" He glanced around to see just who was attending to this lovely little meeting. Seemed like a whole group of _fun_. Looking up, he sighed and raised an eyebrow.

"Really boys? Again with the devils trap? One could question your sense of creativity."

"Can it Crowley." The demon put his hand to his mouth with a fake shocked expression. "Oh my. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." A snicker left the man as he locked his hands behind his back with a smile as calm as ever. Carolyn opened the wooden box to show the book to Crowley, who raised his eyebrows. He had never seen such a book, yet he somehow recognized the crest that had been burnt into it. Not that he was going to share that information so easily, oh no.

"Can you translate this?"

"Elymian? Why yes I can, even though it's an ancient language even for us." He put a hand to his chest as he spoke with a smile, almost bowing with that gesture.

"Even for you?" Carolyn frowned, looking at the demon. "What does that mean?" Crowley rolled his shoulders in a shrug, averting his eyes. "Well it's an ancient language from Hell. Slipped out onto earth a bloody long time ago. Didn't last very long. C'est la vie." The hunters frowned and looked at each other, this was already getting confusing.

"Hell has its own language?"

"Several, actually. Elymian is simply the oldest and most obscure. Now, I am not going to say more, I think I've given you_ plenty _as a teaser." The man smirked as he sat down in the chair that the hunters so kindly had provided him with. It was amusing, watching them huddle together, scrambling to come up with a plan of action. He had to come up with some kind of bargain to trick them into believing it was not actually the contents of the book that he wanted. It had been difficult to believe when he had gotten the call about someone unearthing a bound book written in Elymian. He had wasted no time in tracking down who possessed it, and of course, it had led him to the Winchesters. Now, the book hadn't been in their hands at the time, but how could he _not_ grab the chance to play with his favourite chewtoys? Even though it _did_ mean letting a superfluous pair of hunters live. For now, at least.

"Well, how goes it?" He raised his eyebrows, using his most innocent voice to pry. All it got him was an angry glare from Dean so he leaned back in his seat, huffing lightly. _About as polite as a rogue teenager, that one._ Not that he was expecting anything else. _A boar and a moose, working together. _The thought got a bit of a chuckle out of him.

"Alright Crowley, we'll let you translate it."

"Marvellous! I will start right away, give me the book." Crowley held out his hand, wiggling his fingers expectantly. "Come now, I haven't got all day."

"Condition number one is that the book stays with us." Sam spoke up, watching the now quite disappointed demon. "You boys don't trust me, after all this time? Shame on you." There was a twitch of a smile playing on Crowley's lips before he gestured in defeat.

"Alright fine, book stays with you, anything else?"

"Yes. You try _anything_ funny, and we're selling your ass to Abbadon." Dean took a few steps towards the demon, dragging the table over the wooden floor.

"I'll be as dreary as I can muster."

"And you'll stay here, until you're done." He frowned and looked up at Dean who was looming over him. "And when do I get to state my terms?" Snorting, Dean stepped away from the table, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for Crowley to speak.

"Well first off, I want to walk away from this, but that's kind of a given, isn't it?" He chuckled lowly as he leaned back in his seat comfortably. At least this time he wasn't bound by chains, just a devils trap. "But that I_ really_ want to know.." He smirked as he glanced over at the angel, who had been rather stoic the entire time. It was time to ruffle some feathers. ".. Is how on_ earth_ did you find a unicorn? Oh! And where can I get one?" Castiel lowered his arms as he stared at the demon, his mind working over how Crowley had come across such information.

"Oh come now sweetcheeks, surely you didn't think you could keep news like_ that _from the King of Hell?" Approaching Crowley, Castiel roughly grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring the man close to his face, his eyes locked with the others'.

"How did you know." The hoarse voice of the angel was demanding answers, and it didn't seem like he'd back down from getting them.

"_Please_, aren't we beyond underestimating my network of intelligence? Hm?" Dean put a hand on Castiel's shoulder, urging the angel to let Crowley go and back up, keeping a close eye on the demon as he did so.

"So, what will it be? You tell me where to find a unicorn, I'll translate your book, we all part ways as unlikely friends. How does that sound?"

"We do not know where to find a unicorn."

"Then give me yours."

"Out of the question."

"Then there's no deal." The conversation between the angel and the demon were like dogs snapping their teeth at each other. After staring each other down for surely a minute or two, Dean stepped in.

"How about we tell you the _signs_ of a unicorn's presence, instead?" Crowley primmed his lips as he tasted the suggestion, looking around in thought. It was better than getting nothing out of this little endeavour, and after all, the book was his main interest. This way, he was getting what he wanted, as well as a little parting gift. Giving a nod, he looked over at the Winchesters with a grin.

"Alright, it's a deal! Let's kiss on it."


	12. Not exactly a bedtime story

Crowley was left on his own devices, or well, to a point at least. There were live feed security cameras and the hunter Carolyn was staying in a small cabin with her nephew not too far away from there. At least this time he could move about and such, no stiff collar around his neck or unpleasant shackles. He took his time with examining the book, looking at the crest very closely. It was an intricate crest. The base of it however was simply a circle with a line straight down through it. There was a wide trident from above the circle going down into it, and on the very top of the line there was a little cross. On the bottom there was another, much narrower trident, starting just above the circle and cutting through its edges. Of course, there were other little lines, such as one in the middle going across but not through the circle, and some other little scribbles that made it almost look Asian. Everything in the crest was connected, and he couldn't help but feel as though he had seen it somewhere before. He just couldn't quite place where. Rome? Atlantis? Stroking a hand over his scruffy beard, he frowned. It was about time for a shave. Stupid human vessels.

Sucking in a deep breath, he leaned back in his seat to finally open up the book. As far as he knew there had only been a handful of scriptures in Elymian found on earth. In Hell however, it was a different story. Elymian had always existed there, for as long as even Lucifer could remember, and there were old scrolls and tomes written in the language. A few more than a handful, but still not an impressive number. Apparently, they had been found buried in what seemed like an old, underground library, but that had been before his time. However, Crowley prided himself in being linguistically knowledgeable, and he had studied all languages that he had come across.

"So, _gorgeous_, let's see what secrets you hold.." He turned the first page carefully. The writing looked as though it had been burnt into the skin, then filled in with blood. It was faded, but fully readable, at least for him. Smiling to himself, he began to read, pleased with the find.

...

The next day, Carolyn alerted the brothers that Crowley seemed to be finished with the book, as he kept shouting at the camera. It wasn't wired for sound, so she could simply guess what he was saying. It took them a number of hours to get down there, but eventually they arrived. Castiel had decided to remain at home but had promised he would come if called; he simply wished to keep Amy safe in case Crowley attempted something. What that something was, he had no idea, but he was rather safe than sorry. The group of hunters, now Noah included, entered the barn together.

"Finally! I was starting to think you didn't _like me_ anymore." There was a rusty laugh in his voice as he spoke, his eyes following the movements of the group. Carolyn shot him a cold glare and he smirked. Humans were so easy to rile up.

"Alright Crowley, spit it out." Dean demanded with a firm stare. The demon held out his hands, eyebrows raised in a wondering expression. "What, not so much as a hello?" The silence that followed got him to raise an eyebrow before rolling his eyes, slapping the arm rests of his chair with his palms.

"Oh alright! Jeez, you've gotten so boring, all business and no_ fun_." He spat out the words at them before snorting, picking up the book from its place on the table.

"It's a kind of journal, with a hint of a history book." The hunters frowned and eyes flickered among each other before focusing on the demon again. "Doesn't do it for you, hm? Alright." Taking a breath, he idly browsed the pages, not even looking at the hunters.

"The first section is just history of, well not _Hell_, but what was there before, very interesting. Highly recommendable read. Then it goes into more of a journal theme. Seems like the guy's describing where he's been and what he's done. I must say, man of my own taste, seems like he has _quite_ the grudge against that silly little God of yours." Dean shook his head, trying to take it all in at once.

"Hang on, the history _before_ Hell? I thought God created Hell?" Crowley looked up and blinked, pointing at the book. "Oh, not according to this." He tapped the hide lightly with two fingers, looking at the group of hunters. "No no, according to _this_ little darling, Hell was all _sorts_ of nasty _way_ before Lucifer got shoved into his precious little cage." Dragging a hand over his hair, Dean thought about what Crowley had just said as he approached him, sitting down on the edge of the table to look down at their current associate.

"How about you _read_ that entire passage to us?" Crowley chuckled lowly, leaning back in his seat. "I can do better than that; I can read the _one_ page that contains all the juicy stuff." Dean threw out his arms with a bit of a grin. "Alright, get to it then."

"_Just as heaven has always existed, so has Hell, in one form or another. It is a vast place with various dimensions that the inhabitants can travel freely among, much like angels can with the various, personal heavens._

_It is stated that God created Hell and that may be so, in a way. God created Hell as you know it, as a prison for Lucifer. However, the dark dimension had already been there, and Lucifer's cage was much like putting an apple down on the floor of a castle._

_The original Hell had no name. It had no souls to torture. There was no way in, or out of it. There were no such things as demons. It was simply a network of dimensions much like the continents on earth. It was a world where creatures that had never seen the light of the sun lived. Or at least, their sun wasn't at all what you see yours to be. Their source of light came from suffering, the collected pain and misery from all the other worlds and dimensions. It looked much like a sun, but was nothing but a massive orb of compressed energy. It was not bright nor warming, it simply shone quietly with a dim glow._

_It was oblivion. The abyss. The darkest pit with no bottom. Here lived creatures that no other world would ever lay eyes on. There were laws and rules, cities and even families, all drowned in constant war and misery. The children were sacrificed to curse another family; the creatures slaughtered each other for scraps._

_And above it all, stood the Lord. He was the ruler of the Abyss,born with the sole purpose of creating his kingdom, his people and leading them. He was as old as oblivion itself, and he was tired. Tired of bathing in the blood of others, tired of basking in the light of pain and suffering. But the pit needed its King. Despite all the violence, it was a functioning society. It was a society he had created with his own two hands, every different kind of creature was after his own design, and he could not abandon them, for he was their Lord._

_Everything changed one day, when the walls of his home were torn open. The light that entered was hot and bright, blinding the creatures, causing them to burn, one after another. Watching his citizens die, twisting and wailing in pain, the Lord swore revenge. Because no matter how tired he was of ruling, the citizens were much like his children. And now, the corpses of his children littered what was left of the streets. The buildings were burnt down; even his palace had been leveled. Everything had been destroyed, turned into dust and blood, yet he stood unharmed. All his creations, all his work, burned into nothingness._

_But for all that had been lost, the pit had gained something new. A caged angel with vengeance in his heart, as well as a gateway to other, unknown places. The Lord approached the angel, demanding to know what had happened. The angel told him that God had torn apart the walls of his sanctuary to put him there, renaming it Hell, as well as his cage. After eons of leading his people, he had lost his empire to the whim of a God._

_Things had changed now that God had forced his will into this home of his. The gateway allowed souls that God deemed unworthy of heaven to descend into the newly reformed Hell. His kingdom was long gone, and he knew and cared little of God's plans for his home. Thus, he offered the caged angel Lucifer a deal._

_**"If you swear your silence, I shall name you the new King of Hell. God is not to know of my existence, for he shall believe that I burned with the rest of my brethren, and in exchange I shall give you the power to do as you please with this realm of mine."**_

_Lucifer agreed, for he had no knowledge of how to handle the wicked souls. The deal was sealed with a kiss, and the former Lord of the abyss left his home, leaving the fallen angel in charge, albeit still caged. Lucifer took the knowledge and power that the deal had granted him to twist a human soul into what would become the very first demon. That was the beginning of Hell as you know it, and the end of my rule."_

A thick silence fell in the massive barn as they simply let the words sink in. Crowley, having read it several times before, simply scratched at his beard with a yawn. Three, two, one.

"_That's_ why demons kiss when they seal a deal? And make deals at all? Because_ Lucifer_ did it?" Dean frowned as he stared at Crowley.

"Well he had to get it from_ somewhere_, didn't he? Come on, it makes perfect sense! I mean have you _ever_ met an angel who's **spontaneously** thought of the idea to _kiss_? Or wanted to strike a_ deal_? I sure haven't, it's always_ all or nothing_ with those guys." Crowley did his best impression of Castiel's voice as he spoke the words 'all or nothing'. Dean blinked and then gave a tilted nod in agreement. Angels were not ones for making deals, nor did they spontaneously kiss. It made sense for Lucifer to have been inspired by someone, as all traditions and demons in Hell came from him.

"I suppose that also explains how Lucifer knew how to twist a human soul into a demon in the first place." Sam added, looking over at his brother. "I mean, it's not like doing that is part of a regular angel's repertoire."

"Moose is right. Now, tell me what the signs of a unicorn are, and I'll be on my merry way." Carolyn stepped forward with a stern look in her eyes.

"Hey, you've only told us one page!"

"Have I? Oh yes well, the rest is really not interesting. The Lord _goes _places, _does _things, complains about _God_, that sort of thing. _Very_ tedious, you'd be asleep in two minutes." Never once averting her gaze from the demon, the woman firmly sat down on the table.

"_Try me_."

* * *

Luckily Sam suggested that they got it all written down as well, to have a translated copy of the book. It was much to Crowley's dismay, as he had already gotten a ways into the book when the suggestion was made, but better late than never. It took them a few days to get the entire book written down in English, mainly because the King of Hell kept stalling through needing to stretch his legs and such things. Carolyn nearly lost her patience with the man several times, having to be put on break by her nephew so that he could take over the writing. Any joke or pointer Crowley had coming at the man seemed to simply roll off, which eventually forced Crowley to give up on ever agitating the other. He'd never seen such a content hunter in all his life._ Must be something wrong with him. Dropped on the head, perhaps._ A chuckle slipped out of him but Noah didn't pay any attention, as he was writing down the last paragraph of the book. Leaning back, he stretched out his arms to the point that his back crunched slightly, and he let out a content sigh.

"That's that." He smiled, getting up from the table. Crowley did the same from the other side, clapping his hands together with a smile.

"Marvelous. That means you can let me go now." As little as Noah liked having to let the other go, a deal was a deal. The last thing he needed was a massive group of vengeful demons on his ass; he had enough to handle without being hunted. Reluctantly Noah approached the demon only to walk past him, moving over to a wooden cabinet. As he opened it, there were a large amount of electrical equipment. There were fuses, wires and an assortment of strange buttons, as well as a password panel. Shielding it from view, Noah swiftly entered the numerical password before pulling a small lever. A rattle and a hum was heard as the ceiling split in two, thus breaking the trap.

"Hm. Impressive. Well, toodles!" Crowley put his hand to his forehead much like a salute before disappearing into thin air. Pulling up the lever, the ceiling returned to being a complete devils trap.

"Why do I have the feeling this is going to come back to bite us in the ass?" He shook his head lightly as he heaved a sigh, adjusting his cap. Well, at least they had the translation.

Now it was just time to make sense of it all.

* * *

Crowley returned to Hell with a lot on his mind. That book had even managed to push Abaddon and that whole ordeal out of his mind for the time being. Wandering through the many corridors of cages with wailing souls inside, he kept his head down, thinking quietly to himself. While he didn't have the book in hand, he still had all the information. However, so did the Winchesters, but he could look past that little detail for now.

The only other one that could possibly add to his wealth of information in this matter was Lucifer, and asking him was out of the question. It was a part of Hell he wasn't too keen on visiting, but it seemed like it was the one place he could find more information. The cage itself was minuscule compared to the vast space it had been put in. There was nothing in that part of Hell, and since seizing the throne he had never really thought about making something of it.

"I suppose it's time for a little _field trip_." He smirked to himself as he took one more step, ending up in the dimension of Hell that was left untouched. Stepping over some rubble, he glanced about with nothing but a lack of interest in his eyes. He was unsure of what exactly he was expecting to find there, besides some scorched old bones. The cage was placed in the middle of the particular level of Hell, and he took quite the detour around it. Frowning, he began looking closer at just how the landscape behaved. From the cage, rubble laid in waves. Everything was aiming away from the cage, as though it had been the center of a massive explosion. It seemed a lot more violent than how the book had described it, put perhaps the horror had been lost in translation. Chuckling to himself, he moved on. To think that this vast place, that all levels of Hell had been the home of a kingdom. It was difficult to believe, even for him. However, now as he held that knowledge, it was easier to see the remnants of a city. There were still streets stretching over the landscape, even though they were cracked and for the most part ruined. The rubble was no longer random piles of debris, but ruins that had been left to crumble for ages.

Venturing up on a hill, he looked around. Now here there had been no ordinary building. How come no one had seen it before? Stroking a hand over a lone, shattered pillar, he smiled to himself. It seemed as though there had stood a castle there once, or a building of similar properties. Up on this hill, the debris and rubble were of the purest obsidian, as black as his own heart, if one was allowed to get poetic.

"You really _are_ a man of my own taste, Lordy." The demon let out a gravely chuckle as he moved on, determined to find something more useful than a broken pillar.

Eventually, he found it. Underneath a pile of loose rubble, he caught a glimpse of something that looked less broken. Having cleared away all the shattered obsidian, a pair of doors built into the ground were revealed. They were cracked, but it seemed like they were so thick that the cracks hadn't managed all the way through.

"Where's a brute when I need one?" He heaved a sigh; he wasn't much for the back-breaking kind of work. However, being the King of Hell had its perks, and it didn't take long before the massive doors creaked open. His lips twitched into a satisfied smirk as he laid eyes on the inside of the doors.

"Well _hello_ there, I've been looking for you." The same crest which had been burnt into the book had been carved into the back of these doors.

"_Now_ we're getting somewhere." With those pleased words, Crowley began walking down the steps into the darkness, eager to discover anything that could be of use.


	13. Give me a break

The contents of the book truly were strange. Even Dean found himself reading the copy of the book, which most likely would classify as a journal. Much of what was described in the journal seemed to be someone speaking of past experiences, actually, most of it seemed that way. Every little part of history up until the book was made, the author seemed to have been there, and was writing about it as though he simply hadn't been able to make a proper journal earlier. Every now and then there were paragraphs about how the author was missing his home and how he would detest seeing what God had twisted his realm into; some of those more personal comments even got a chuckle out of the green-eyed hunter.

"Hey, Sammy, listen to this." Dean cleared his throat with a grin, leaning back in his seat. "_For all that you have done, I shall take your Adam, and prepare him a meal. This meal will contain all limbs that he can spare, and he shall remain alive until he has finished every last bite. As he swallows the last piece, so shall I swallow him, and his spirit shall never know peace._" Dean had spoken with his most formal voice, now grinning excitedly at the other. Sam looked at his brother with a bit of a horrified expression. "Dude, that's just, wrong." Dean let out a chuckle, turning the page.

"No kidding. This guy had a _major_ grudge against God, Crowley wasn't kidding about that." Sam smirked slightly as he sat down by the table with his laptop. "I kinda get why though, I mean, according to that book, God _did_ destroy his home." Dean nodded in agreement, turning the page with a smile. If anything, it was an interesting read. There was a thought nagging in the back of his mind however, and it only took a few more minutes for him to give in to it, propping himself up against the table as he leaned over it.

"Hey, Sam.." Sam looked up from the laptop with raised eyebrows, looking over at Dean. "Yeah?"

"If this Lord person has been on earth ever since Lucifer was caged.. How come he's never done anything?" He was frowning slightly, looking for answers in his brother, who thoughtfully looked at the laptop screen. "Who says he _hasn't_ done anything?" He glanced off at Dean, who leaned back into his seat again, scratching idly at his temple with a finger.

"I don't know, man. Sure, this thing" He held up the journal copy. "Ain't exactly _up to date_, but don't you think that if he'd done something major, God would've done something about it?" Sam sighed softly with a scowl, resting his chin in his palm.

"Perhaps God _has_ done something about it. As you said, it's not exactly up to date; perhaps that Lord person is dead already." Dean tasted the suggestion pensively, moving his lips from side to side in thought. "Yeah, I guess." His voice dragged as he turned yet another page. He envied his brother's natural belief in things being alright. Sam always took things as they came, if it wasn't proven to be a threat, then it most likely wasn't. It probably gave him some peace of mind, thinking like that. Dean, on the other hand, felt as though he could never stop worrying about the possibilities. He was a hunter through and through, and for people like them, trouble never stopped coming. This wasn't any different. Sure, it was a series of seemingly random events that had landed them with this book, but there was always something more to it.

Its discovery in itself was enough to believe that something was stirring. A book in Elymian, a language only known to have existed in Sicily when on earth, how had it ended up in a buried chapel in America? Had the chapel itself really been buried by a sinkhole, and what was the purpose of hiding the book there? Perhaps whoever wrote it had been meaning for someone to find it. Someone who had connections to demons, or connections to other people who had connections with..

Dean shook his head and put the makeshift book down, rubbing at his eyes. Looking up, Sam had already left. Hadn't he just arrived? Frowning, he checked his watch. It seemed that while lost in his thoughts reading, a lot of time had passed. Hauling himself out of the chair, there was a sharp pain in his abdomen, and the man awkwardly waddled towards the bathroom. He really, _really _needed to pee.

* * *

When he came back, Amy was laying on her back on top of the table, reading the journal that he had left there. It looked as thought she had already gotten through a chunk of it, but he supposed that with having little else to do but_ read_, she was quite skilled at it.

"_Really_, Amy, on the_ table_?" Dean sank right back down into the chair that he had previously occupied, glancing at Amy with a slight smile. Tipping her head his way, she blinked a couple of times before frowning slightly in confusion.

"Only last night you spent _two and a half hours_ on the table, dancing to really loud music after consuming several glasses of whiskey." Dean raised his eyebrows before letting out a chuckle, holding up his hands in a surrendering motion. "Alright, you got me."

"I got you where?" Dean cleared his throat. "Nevermind."

There were a few minutes of silence as Amy returned her attention to the book, which she was holding up above her. Drumming lightly on the table, Dean glanced around with a bored look in his eyes before eventually speaking up, looking over at the girl on the table.

"So, what do you think?" She tilted her head to look at him. "About the book?" Dean nodded to confirm that he was indeed talking about the book. She looked up at it again, smiling slightly.

"I like it. I mean, besides the parts where he hates God and swears to destroy all that he holds dear, he seems like an okay person. _Troubled_, but okay."

"If he even _is_ a person, I mean, the guy ruled whatever Hell was before it became Hell." Pushing herself up to sit, she swung her legs over the edge of the table to put her feet against an empty chair, the book in her lap, eyes resting on Dean.

"I _highly_ doubt that he would spend so much time on earth without being able to disguise himself." She had a good point, even if he wasn't a person; he could most likely be looking like one.

"If he's still live and kicking, that is." That particular saying she_ had_ encountered before, and she knew what it meant. It didn't mean that the person that they were speaking about actually had a habit of kicking. Roy had taught her that. "I guess there's no way to find out if he is." Amy smiled down at Dean from where she sat, drumming her palms against the book.

"But reading that, you really think he sounds like an okay person? I mean, the history part in itself kinda proves he was cruel." Amy thought about his words, humming softly before shrugging with a smile.

"I think he did the best he could with what he was given. He had a sun made out of _pain and suffering_, don't you think that would affect you too? I mean, if _I_ was put in a room and ordered to draw, and the room was full of pain and suffering, I don't think I'd be drawing anything happy." Looking down at Dean, she simply smiled cheerfully. The hunter gazed up at the carefree girl with a surprised expression before chuckling, his lips curving into a slight smile as he leaned back in his seat, resting his cheek against his knuckles. Of all of the people they had encountered in their lives, she had to be at the top of the list when it came to being strange, right up there with Garth and possibly Becky, although Becky was a borderline case. She wasn't lovably strange like Amy and Garth, but instead she was completely insane. She had her good moments, but most of the time, she just creeped them out.

"Yeah, you're probably right, Amy." Dean patted her knee lightly with a smile as he got out of the chair, getting up on his feet. "I don't think I'd be drawing any happy things either."

* * *

Sam was resting in his room, doing some general research. They didn't have a case to focus on, so he might as well try to figure out how to track Gadreel or Metatron down. There was a wealth of rituals and summonings, but none seemed like they would be any good.

However, it was all just a way to stall his mind. He knew how broken Dean had been when he had told him that he would not save his brother's life if he had been in the same situation. Dean hadn't understood what he had meant, but at the time, Sam truly hadn't felt like trying to explain, stumbling over his own words only to have his brother misunderstand even further. It wasn't as though he would let Dean die if he got stabbed or something like that, no, he would try his damndest to save his brother, like they always did for each other. But this time, it had been different. He had accepted death, in fact, he was almost glad to get out of this life of theirs. Dean had cheated him of something he deserved; peace. However, Dean was not the most understanding of people, and would have taken anything he said as a mere excuse, a feeble attempt at saving himself. Instead, he had moved on, ignoring the cold glances and morbid jokes about leaving his brother in a ditch. Eventually, Dean gave up on getting an explanation that would satisfy him out of his brother, and things had somewhat gone back to normal.

Not that anything was ever completely normal in their life. Barely a week had passed before they had stumbled across the case that led them to Amy, which had led to even more complications. Since so much time had passed, by now he couldn't really muster up the courage to tell Dean what he had really meant. It was too late, he kept telling himself. That train had already left the station, and was never coming back. Heaving a sigh, he moved from lying down with his laptop to sitting up, his back aching from staying still for so long.

"I am not comfortable with Dean touching Amy." Sam flinched visibly as the angel appeared b his bed, and he glared up at him before frowning, having realized what Castiel's words had been.

"Wait _what_? He's, _touching_ her?" Castiel nodded. "Yes, he firmly put his hand on her knee. _Twice_." Castiel reached down to pat Sam's knee twice before straightening up. "Like so." Sam raised his eyebrows, glancing down at his knee, then looking up at the angel before letting out an amused laugh.

"Don't you think you're reading into this a bit much?" Castiel sucked in a breath before glancing around slowly. Sam simply smiled as he watched his friend, who had truly taken on a protective role when it came to their still rather newly obtained unicorn. It was strange to see it; he was almost as protective of Amy as Dean was of the Impala, or his pie for that matter. Then again, Dean was rather fierce and passionate when it came to the things he enjoyed most.

"I have spent enough time with your brother to know that he never touches a female without reason." Sam rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "I guess that means he's _warming up_ to her, then. That's a _good_ thing, Cas." The angel frowned, still displeased with the situation, looking down at the floor. "He did act much more aggressively around her before, that is true."

"See? He's_ just _being friendly." Castiel gave Sam a blank look. "I know of another kind of _friendly_ that Dean possesses, which are you referring to?"

"The normal kind of friendly, Cas. The one where he's _just past_ wanting to toss her into the ocean."


	14. Triple the fun

"I will not have your brother fornicate with a unicorn." Sam was standing in the laundry room, folding the dry clothes neatly, putting them in piles according to which person they belonged to.

"He will _not,_ 'fornicate', with the unicorn, I've_ told_ you." The tall hunter didn't even bother looking at the angel as he folded another shirt. Castiel frowned and heaved a sigh, looking around in thought before his raspy voice yet again was heard.

"I have yet to locate a potential mate to ensure the species' survival." Putting down the shirt hastily, Sam turned to face the angel with a blank look.

"_Really_, Cas?" The angel appeared to be unsure of the fault in his mission. "Don't you think she should be able to decide _herself_ who she'll.. _Mate_ with **seriously** man, '_mate'_? You talk like she's some kind of endangered animal!" There was a slight pause as the angel observed the hunter.

"She_ is_, an endangered animal."

"She's a_ person_, Cas. With _feelings_."

"Creatures of the animal kingdom have a variety of feelings." Sam heaved a sigh as he rolled his eyes, grabbing a pile of clean clothes before heading out of the laundry room. "You know what I mean." Castiel simply watched the other leave, heaving a sigh before following him.

"**Clearly**, I do not."

* * *

Dean was sitting in front of the laptop, looking over any signs of another unicorn. They had been forced to tell Crowley the signs, and the least they could do was try to prevent him from getting one. It was uncertain if the old king of the crossroads knew exactly what a unicorn could be used for, but he knew that if Crowley did get his filthy hands on one, that unicorn would suffer immensely just so that he could find out what makes it tick, as well as what that ticking could be used for.

Even_ they_ didn't know the full extent of a unicorn's abilities. Castiel had mentioned that they were able to resurrect angels, but he had no clue exactly how that worked. It wasn't as though reviving their vessels would bring the angels back. Where did angels even go when they died? Monsters were sent to purgatory; that much he knew. Heck, he barely knew where demons went when they got ganked. Did they simply go back to hell? Or perhaps they went to purgatory. Maybe, they ceased to exist.

However, his research led to little results. Apparently, if there _were_ any unicorns besides Amy, which he suspected that there were, they weren't stepping forward quite as much as she had. Perhaps it was merely because Amy lacked subtlety in comparison to the other unicorns, or the other ones were dicks who resisted their urges to help humans. Either way, he had nothing to go on. In the same swing, that also meant that Crowley most likely had nothing to go on, so they could relax for now.

Moving his hand to his arm, he idly scratched at the mark that he had received from Cain. Glancing at it, he frowned slightly before heaving a sigh. It burned ever so often, but he had been given little choice in the matter. They needed the first blade to work, they had to slay Abbadon. There was still so much he needed to know about it; what was the burden that Cain had spoken of? What would the cost be? Rubbing at the mark more violently, he eventually grunted and rolled down the sleeves of his shirt with a snort. He'd drive himself mad if he kept thinking about it.

Crowley still hadn't gotten back to him about the first blade he was supposed to be finding. They hadn't mentioned it the last time they met; it was more of a silent understanding. Crowley had no use of the blade without him, and he wasn't going to destroy it, so Dean didn't feel any need to worry about it. Dean kept rubbing his hand over the mark, even through his shirt.

"Does it hurt?" Dean let out a startled noise as he jumped in his chair, looking up at Amy who was sitting on the table in front of him.

"**Jesus**, Amy! We need to get you a fucking bell." He adjusted his shirt, sucking in a deep breath. While she didn't zap in and out like Castiel did, she was just as good at sneaking up at people. Dean briefly wondered to himself if he'd actually ever heard Amy's footsteps. The unicorn didn't appear opposed to the idea of getting a bell, although Dean hardly thought she understood why she needed one.

"Why do you ask anyway, can't you sense pain or something?" Amy tipped her head from side to side, weighing his claim over. "Well, not exactly. Or, sort of. I can sense injuries really well though! Diseases too. It's really unpleasant. I suppose that to a point, I can sense pain, but it gets _reeaally_ muddled around you two." She gave a firm nod.

"You both have _so much_ pain inside of you, that it's difficult to tell the difference between your mental, and your physical pain." She held out her hands as though the word 'mental' was in one, and the word 'physical' in the other, weighing them out. Dean peered up at her with a more of a concerned look. He didn't like the sound of that. Sure, he knew that they had been through more than enough crap, but he felt his heart sink at the thought of all that burdening his brother. Himself, he could manage, but he didn't want for Sam to go through life with all that pain. Especially now that he had pulled him out of death's grip, he felt even more responsible. It didn't help that Sam had disagreed with his actions, treating him as though he had done something horrible to him. While they were past acting out against each other about it, it was still at the front of his mind.

"Soo.." Amy tried, sliding across the table on her bum to slip down into the chair next to Dean, her feet curled around the edge of the table. "Does it?"

"Does it what?"

"Hurt."

To think that such a simple question could be so difficult to answer. He didn't like admitting to anything like that, he rigidly believed that he was the only one who should be burdened with his crap. Because that's all that it was, crap. There were moments of silence, perhaps even a minute or two passed between the two.

"It's.. Nothing I can't manage." Perfect. It was the truth without having to delve into the pit that was his mind.

"Would you like to feel better? I can numb the burning. It burns, doesn't it?" Amy had seemingly zeroed in on the physical aspect of the mark, understanding just what it felt like. Hesitating slightly, he looked down at the girl. "You're not allowed make the mark go away."

"Oh, I couldn't even if I wanted to, which I might. That's a mark of _God_, I can't touch that. Well, I can physically_ touch it_, but I can't _remove_ it." She smiled as she wriggled to sit up straight in the chair, her feet barely touching the ground. "I can ease the burning sensation if you'd like?" He glanced down at his own arm before he cautiously rolled up his sleeve again, holding out his arm to the unicorn, his eyes watching her every move intensely. Reaching out, she grabbed his wrist with one hand before placing he palm over the mark, a smile curving her lips. This was her forte after all, where she felt the most at peace. Soon, her pupils went white much like when an angel used its powers, glowing softly along with her forehead and her palm. It wasn't a very bright glow, but it was warm, and felt comforting in a strange kind of way. Pleasant, much like how one would enjoy a warm bath in winter, or a cool breeze in the summer heat, and in only a few seconds, it was over. Amy removed her hands from his arm, rubbing her palms together briefly before smiling at him, eager to know the result. Never before had she gotten to consult a person at the other end of her work.

"Well?" It was as though she was sitting on pins and needles in excitement, expectantly watching the other. Dean looked his arm over, rubbing lightly at the mark. It felt much more like a scar now, numb and not irritated like before. It looked just the same, but it felt different.

"It feels... Good, actually." A chuckle escaped him. "Thanks, Amy." Amy grinned widely, barely able to contain her bliss. This was the first time she had ever been thanked for aiding someone and it made her feel better than she had ever felt. It was only then that Dean noticed just how thrilled she was and he let out a laugh.

"Easy tiger, calm down. We don't want you to burst." Blinking, she looked at him in a moment of confusion before taking a deep breath, leaning back in her chair with a smile.

"Sorry, it's just, I've never had anyone thank me before.. It feels great!" Dean smiled one of his slanted smiles as he looked at her. He couldn't blame her; in fact, he could imagine just how it felt, being thanked for the first time after having worked in the dark for so long.

After all, wasn't that what hunters were all about? Aiding from the shadows, protecting people that never asked for help, making sure that humans who had never met, or even_ seen_ them before, got on with their lives okay. Risking _their lives,_ just so that they could save others. They had gotten many thanks, but there were many, much bigger things that they had never been thanked for. Regardless of the lack of gratitude, they kept going, they kept helping people.

Perhaps hunters and unicorns weren't quite as different as he had first thought.

* * *

Finding the first blade had conveniently slipped down from the top of his priority list to the bottom, all thanks to that journal. Abaddon could throw as many hissy fits as she pleased; Crowley had other things on his mind. More important things. She could live to be slaughtered another day.

The crypt he had discovered was in prime condition, spared from all the destruction, most likely thanks to the incredibly thick walls and doors. The stairs leading down into it hadn't been very long, just a couple of meters. It was dark, but the little light that dimly flowed in from the open doors was enough to let him find candles mounted on the walls, which he lit easily with a snap of his fingers. They smelled delicious, those candles, as though they were made out of creatures instead of wax. Of course, it was an acquired taste, or well, _smell_, that beings outside of Hell most likely wouldn't enjoy. Flickering flames threw their light upon the contents of the room.

It was low in ceiling height; that moose of a hunter would most likely have had to crouch down if he were to enter this place. There were shelves lining the walls with scrolls and scriptures, stone tablets and books, all seemingly written in Elymian. There was dried blood on the floor; little to his surprise, and in the middle of the room, there stood a table. It was long enough to fit two of him in length, and about half as wide. Littering the edges of the table there was a bowl, tools carved out of bones, something with a very sharp scent that had been ground into fine dust, and an assortment of other macabre ingredients. There was a crest carved into the surface of the black, bloodstained table that he had never seen before, and it urged him to take a closer look. It looked somewhat like the symbol for a summoning, yet it shared traits with a devils trap. There were Elymian words carved into the outer circle of the symbol, and he frowned slightly, stroking his chin in thought.

"_Rise. Breathe the agony. Heed my will. Rise. Creature of the pit, bow your head, as I make you. Rise. For I am your Lord._" Crowley leaned back with his eyebrows raised, hands locked behind his back.

"Well isn't that a _nifty_ little trick. Creation and obedience in one go, _clever boy_." A dark chuckle left the man as he moved around the table. Along the edges of the thick ritual table there were inscriptions, much like the ones in the symbol itself. It would seem as though he had stumbled upon the old Lord's hobby room, where he made his people. If one now could call them people.. Crowley raised his eyebrows curiously as he looked over what seemed like ingredients yet another time. It was unlikely that he could, but if he somehow was able to learn how to use this ritual, he could be able to create a smart, powerful and most importantly; obedient army.

If only he knew what made that ritual tick. The ingredients present didn't have to be the complete list, there could be things missing. There was also the question of how the ritual worked beyond the mixing and stirring, such as what the spoken words were, if there were any. He highly doubted that it would involve the words written on the table; that would be over the top and ridiculous. If the Lord had been the only one to perform this act, it wasn't for sure that he had a manual of sorts written down. Crowley decided to test his luck anyway, going over the books in the room. There were a large number of them, each and every one written in Elymian, by which seemed to be the same person. The few stone tablets were barely worth mentioning, as they only had a simple symbol on each side carved into them.

It took him a long time to even just briefly go through all the books, and he frowned. Not a single one was about whatever rituals had been performed there. Grunting and muttering to himself, he threw angry glares around the room, wishing for someone to lash out at. Then it hit him. This was the Lord's personal hobby room, but he undoubtedly had some kind of secret compartment somewhere, in order to keep his most valuable possessions safe. Thus, the current King of Hell began looking for anything that could give away such a compartment. Once he knew what he was looking for, it didn't take an awfully long time for him to find it. One of the shelves looked as though it had been hastily cleared; books lying sprawled open on the ground below, having soaked in whatever fresh blood there had been there at the time. At the back of the shelf, right where it ended, there was a slight dip in the wall. Crowley grinned to himself, reaching out to push his fingers into the dip.

"Let's see what we've got here..!" With a grunt, he managed to pull and slide the stone wall to the side. Letting out a satisfied chuckle, he rubbed his hands together with a sinister smirk.

"Now_ what_ did you throw in here in such a_ hurry_, little Lordy..?"


	15. Home sweet home

The hum of the engine filled the inside of the car, only to be drowned by the heavy music of Dean's choice. The two brothers were out on a mission, but not a regular hunt. In fact, it wasn't a hunt at all, at least not in those terms. The two of them had in their off-time been looking for a potential new safe house. They had the bunker to keep them safe, but they couldn't have a unicorn staying with them forever. As she wasn't in any imminent danger, they felt as though she could stay someplace else. The angel had strongly disagreed, but he had been left no choice other than to give in to the will of the brothers. It wasn't as though they didn't enjoy having her there with them, quite the contrary. She had been a breath of fresh air in the murky situation that they were in, but she had to have her own space. Or at least, that was how they were reasoning on the subject.

Turning a corner to head down an old dirt road, Dean shifted to put an arm over the car door, frowning as he looked around, creeping up the path. They were surrounded by quite mesmerizing woodland; if you cared about those sort of things. Dean forced himself to look at the road, while Sam kept looking around. The ground in the forest was mostly covered in moss and ferns, the moss having climbed up the majority of trees that stood there. There were barely any small trees; just large, tall trunks whose crowns only let slivers of sunshine down to the forest floor. Sam smiled to himself before leaning back in his seat, still looking out the window.

"I think Amy will like this place."

"Yeah, if the house is any good." They couldn't get their hopes up too high. They had gotten the place so cheap that it might as well just be a big hole in the ground. Soon, they reached a gate. It was an old metal gate, and Sam had to get out of the car to open it in order to let the Impala through. A wooden fence connected to each side of the gate, stretching out into the forest, although it was broken down in several places, and it was undoubtedly rotten, if the moss growing out of it was any indication. They drove up onto a yard, where there stood an old tractor, rusty to the core. The grass around the house was wildly overgrown, but there was still a small platform of compact dirt that they could park. Getting out of the car and slamming the doors shut in sync, the two of them looked at the cabin.

It was a cabin taken straight from an old farmer's novel. The two-step porch with banisters and a rocking chair by the window, a doorbell that was actually a bell with a string that hung by the door. The roof of the porch was saggy and half of it was missing; the pillars supporting it looked as though they could collapse any moment. On the short side of the house that they could see from where they were standing, there was a massive hole, which looked almost as though a bear or something had charged right through it.

"It's.. Not that bad..?" Sam tried hesitantly as the two of them made their through the grass, following what seemed to have been the old path to the house.

"What part is 'not that bad', the big _hole _in the wall or the fact it looks like it's going _to fall down_ any fucking_ minute_?" Dean grunted as he tried the door. However, as he yanked as the doorknob, the soft, rotten wood of the door gave way. Standing with the entire doorknob construction in his hand, and a hole in the door, Dean gave his brother a flat 'I can't believe we bought this' look. Sam stifled a laugh before stepping aside to let Dean take out his frustrations on the door. A firm kick was enough to split it in two, making it collapse in a pile. Stepping over it, the two proceeded into the house.

"It's going to take fucking _months_ for us to get this place livable! Is it even wired for electricity?" Dean began looking for any evidence of electrical sockets.

"The house isn't from before the time of electricity, Dean." Sam chuckled as he looked around. While there were sockets and lamps that ran on electricity, it didn't seem as though any of them worked. Not very surprising, as no one had lived in this place for many years. It smelled of mold and wet wood, not at all very pleasant. Wandering into the kitchen, he didn't even want to guess what the insides of the fridge would look like.

"How about we don't open those." Dean suggested from the doorway, glancing at the fridge, complete with its own freezer, as though it contained something of great evil. Sam nodded in agreement, and they continued their tour. The floor creaked intensely as they moved; at some points it even felt as though it would give way completely. Going up the stairs to the second floor was out of the question.

"Well" Sam sucked in a breath as the two of them exited the house. "It will take some, work." Dean shot a glance at his brother with raised eyebrows.

"_Some_ work? We'll be stuck working on this for ages!" Sam looked up at the house, trying to think up a solution.

"We_ could_ use the money we've saved up to pay for help. Professionals could probably fix this place up without a problem." That money was their emergency funds. Most of it was money they had hustled up through various scams. Dean didn't like the thought of being forced to use their savings on fixing up a house they weren't even going to stay in, but they couldn't exactly let Amy live in a death trap. Not that a unicorn was likely to die from a household accident, but still.

* * *

They managed to find a builder with a crew that would fix up the house for the money they could spare. It had taken a lot of pleading and '_I owe you_'s for them to accept, but the boys knew their way around persuading others into giving them what they needed. The builder, Thomas, had promised to get the house into livable condition before the leaves started changing color, which even pleased Dean, seeing how it was already August.

However, in the meantime, Amy would have to keep living with them. This really wasn't so bad, as they had come to enjoy the company of the unicorn. She wasn't quite as socially incapable as Castiel, and she had an interesting take on life.

Once they got back to the bunker however, that same unicorn was nowhere to be found. Searching the entire place while calling out her name, the brothers weren't sure of what to do. Where could she have gone off to?

"**Cas!** Get your feathered ass over here!" The angel appeared with a frown, looking at Dean. "My rear is_ not_, feathered."

"Where the _hell _is Amy, Cas?" The angel blinked as he looked at Dean before looking over at Sam, only to look back at Dean again. Throwing out his hands, Dean rolled his eyes. "Great, he doesn't know! Weren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on her?"

"I _do_ have other duties, Dean. Unless you have forgotten that there is a _war _going on? Also, it was _you_ who kept telling me that I did not need to watch her constantly." Dean groaned in frustration, nearly tearing at his hair with his hands. Dragging a palm down over his face, he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.

"Alright." Dean put his hands on his waist, looking at the two. "So how do we find her?"

"Find me? I'm right here." Amy walked into the room from the hallway, looking over at the others with a smile. In her arms she was cradling a basket, which was so filled to the brim with blueberries that there was a trail of them following her. The white top she was wearing was heavily stained with the purple liquid of the berries, and so were her hands, even her lips were purple from eating them. The three men stared at the girl, blinking in confusion. Her clothes, besides the stains of berries, were filthy. The soft trousers she wore looked as though she had been sitting and walking around in mud for hours.

"I take it you've been... _Blueberry_ _hunting_?" Sam raised his eyebrows after having thrown a glance at the basket. Dean had opted to leave the room before he blew a fuse, which was probably just as good. Amy nodded with a grin as she walked into the kitchen, putting down the basket on the counter, causing even more berries to roll off, finding their way to the floor.

"I just really wanted to stretch my legs. I don't do well being hold up inside, I need to get out and walk around. I saw blueberries, so, I ran back inside to grab a basket, and ta-daah!" She held out her arms proudly in a triumphant gesture. "I've got enough for at least two pies! You can, bake pies, can't you?" She looked at Sam expectantly.

"I've, never really tried." He frowned slightly, watching her as she proceeded to wash the blueberries, one by one, very gingerly. He was uncertain if it was a coincidence that she had elected to make, or well, let _him_ make pies out of the blueberries. Castiel went on ahead to help the unicorn, finding her procedure slow and ineffective. Now there were two people washing blueberries, one by one.

"Amy..?" Sam moved over to the counter.

"Hm?" She raised her head from the berries to turn her head, looking at Sam with a smile. "Yes?"

"Do you, by any chance, want to make pies out of the berries because you_ knew_ that leaving without telling us was wrong?" A silence fell in the room as the unicorn seemed unwilling to answer, her shoulders slumped as she kept washing one berry after another.

"... I _know,_ that it's important for me to be kept safe. So, I _knew_, that leaving without telling you would upset you. I _was_ going to come back real quick, I promise! But.." A sot sigh escaped her. "I couldn't just go for a short walk and come back, I needed to be outside for longer, and when I saw the blueberries, I figured.. I figured that if I bring back enough to make a _pie_, you wouldn't get mad at me. Because, Dean really likes pie, and you, you really like that Dean likes pie."

It seemed as though they weren't the only ones getting attached. It appeared that even Amy had begun to really enjoy their company, going out of her way to make sure that they were happy.

"You know, you could've just asked to leave for a while, we could've come with you." He smiled down at her, leaning against the counter.

"I know, but you said you were leaving to check on something important, so I figured I could go on my own." He frowned slightly and looked over at Castiel. "Why didn't you just have Cas take you?"

"Well, he wasn't here, and I couldn't call him, because.." She cleared her throat lightly, busying herself with washing blueberries. "I, _kind of_ forgot his name." Glancing up at the angel, who had stopped his washing of berries, frowned down at the apologetically smiling unicorn.

"I'm sorry..? It's just that, I'm bad with names, and, it didn't seem _that_ important. I'm sorry, I'll learn your name, I promise." Heaving a sigh, the angel's lips twitched with a hint of a smile. It was difficult being upset at a face like that.

"I would appreciate it."

"Sooo...?" She peered up at him with a slight, hesitant smile. "Kass, or something, wasn't it..?" He glanced down at her before looking at Sam, who simply cocked his head towards Amy with a smile as a signal to the angel. Returning his gaze to the unicorn, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

"Not quite. My name is Castiel."

"Castiel.. Alright! I'll do my best to remember, so that I can pray to you."


	16. A new plan

This was outrageous. This was impossible. This couldn't be happening! To think that _she_, of all beings in Hell, had been dragged into some kind of** ridiculous** _election battle _with a _salesman_! The redheaded demon was snarling with anger as she threw a table across the room in rage. Much like a rabid dog, she was pacing around in the room, having locked herself in. This wasn't a time to be graceful. This was war. War did not involve_ elections_!

Heaving a growling sigh, she sank down into an armchair, massaging one of her temples as she stared a hole in the wall in front of her. The demons were weaklings these days, bowing down and accepting the rule of someone like Crowley. Useless, pitiless worms, crawling around in their own blood. Faceless, twisted_ imbeciles_. Her chest was heaving visibly as she tried to calm herself; something which was easier said than done. Crossing one leg over the other, Abaddon took a deep breath, softly letting it out.

She was currently staying in some family home. Of course, the family was long since dead, scattered across the house in pieces. A splash of red truly had done wonders with the place. Sucking in another breath, she frowned with her eyes closed, slowly opening them again. What she needed was a plan of action. As little as she wanted to admit it; Hell had changed, and not necessarily for the better, at least not in her opinion. It wasn't just about raw power and the intimidation that it brought anymore; she could only win over so many with that strategy. However, she had no clue where to even begin. This was far beyond her; she had never had any interest in politics.

"A war for the hearts of the demons.. The only hearts I want are the ones I've ripped out." Huffing lightly, she knew that her anger would make little difference. She somehow had to come up with a way to win herself votes from the demons; she had to _prove _that Crowley didn't have what it takes to rule Hell. It was_ obvious_ to her, but apparently the demons of today were a bit more thickheaded, much dumber than the ones she was used to.

After a few minutes of silent thinking, the woman smirked eerily to herself. She would play by Crowley's rules; go along with his little scheme. She would crush him, humiliate him in his own home, best him at his own game. He would never be able to show his face again, he would become the laughingstock of Hell itself. It would take time, she would have to learn about things she had no real interest in learning; but for the prize of beating Crowley, ruining him to the core.. Nothing could be more worthwhile.

After all, it would be disgraceful if a Knight of Hell couldn't beat a mere _salesman_, no_ matter_ the rules.

* * *

Back in the bunker, things were going quite well. Dean had forgiven Amy for running off on her own; at the cost of a pie that had taken her, Sam and Castiel several hours to make. It hadn't been a complete disaster, although there had been some close calls, such as with the angel and the electric handmixer. So there he stood without a tie, watching the others enjoy their pie. He even found himself longing to be human, if only for a moment.

"You're making me a house? Really?" Amy perked up as he looked over at the brothers. Dean nodded with a grin. "Yep. Well, not making it from scratch, more like, taking a derelict shanty and making it livable for you." Sam ran his tongue over his blueberry blue lips, clearing his mouth before speaking. "It's only about an hour and a half away from here, so we won't be far away. Nice woodland, quiet and secluded, I think you'll like it. With some new furniture, though. The ones available there are not worth the materials they're made of." She grinned excitedly before licking her plate, having finished her pie.

"So when will I move in?"

"It'll take a while" Dean admitted, shoveling some more pie onto his plate without really thinking about how full he was feeling. "The builder said he'd have it ready by fall, though. Then we gotta ward it against demons and all that crap."

"Will you come visit?" The unicorn was looking at them hopefully, her hands in her lap and a smile curving her blueberry stained lips. The brothers let out a synchronized chuckle before leaning back in their seats. It was nice, having someone who didn't associate their presence with horrible events, pain and suffering.

"Sure, if you'll have us." Sam leaned over the table to push the remaining pie away from Dean, who had just been about to grab another slice. Dean shot him a disapproving glare, but it only lasted for about a second before his stomach reminded him of just how bloated he already was.

"It would be ridiculous of me to invite you if I wouldn't let you in." Sam let out a light laugh, running a hand through his hair out of sheer habit.

"That's true. Alright, it's a deal, we'll come visit. But you're going to have to stay here with us for a little while longer." She nodded firmly with a smile before pushing her chair back, getting out of her seat. "That's fine! I like it here. When I move, can I take some books with me?"

The two brothers hesitated, glancing at each other. Eventually Sam spoke up, his voice dragging slightly. "I, don't think that's a great idea. These books are kind of one of a kind." Amy's shoulders slumped and she sank back down into her chair. "Oh.."

"But we have a whole truckload of copies of Bobby's books, you can have as many of those as you like." Dean grinned, amused by how quickly the unicorn perked right back up, speaking eagerly but far too fast for them to comprehend before she bounded towards her bedroom. Shaking his head, Dean got out of his seat to go and get himself a glass of scotch.

"It's sort of like having a dog, without having to train it." Sam raised his eyebrows at the other, a bit stunned by his choice of words, but he didn't protest. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more traits he could think of that Amy shared with dogs. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to feel about that. Dean returned to the table, grunting softly as he thumped right back down into his seat, a glass of scotch in his hand. He threw a glance at his brother before chuckling lowly, sipping his drink.

"Relax, she's going to be fine on her own." Sam blinked and only then realized that he had been staring towards the bedrooms. Shaking his head, he turned back around to look at his empty plate. "Yeah, I know. It's just…"

"Yeah, I know. It's gonna' be empty when she leaves." Dean finished his brothers' thought for him, and Sam glanced towards him with a slight smile. Looking down at his hands, he sighed lightly.

"For the first time in, heck I don't even know_ how_ long, we've got someone who actually _doesn't _think we cause death and destruction wherever we go." Dean nodded slowly in agreement, letting more of the scotch slip down his throat, the warmth of it humming in his chest. "And now we've got to kick her out?"

"It's for the best Sammy, and it's not like she'll be far away. We'll be able to visit." Letting out a somewhat sarcastically amused huff, Sam leaned back in his seat, resting his head against his knuckles. "Yeah, if we'll ever have time once this whole war thing really kicks off." He sucked in a breath, sighing deeply.

"We've got an angelic civil war and a race to become president in Hell, and like they're not _busy enough_, they're trying to exterminate each other. It's only going to get worse. I don't know Dean, that's going to take up a whole lot of our time real quick."

"Well then" Dean cleared his throat, putting his glass down onto the table. "We'll just have to _make_ time, won't we?"


	17. Showdown

It was a day much like any other, in a town which wasn't any more special than another. It was a bright late summers' day, the wind but a gentle breeze. It started as a normal day, just like any other. The sunlit mall was full of people; families and couples just spending quality time together. It was peaceful, the buzz of idle chatter and the occasional laughing child filled the building. The time had just passed noon, and there were many humans gravitating towards all the restaurants.

However, there was something stirring. In the open plaza of the mall, there was a group of people, forming two distinctive sides. They looked much like any other people; good, honest human beings with nothing remarkable about them. Appearances could however be deceiving, as the people in the mall would come to experience.

The two sides were watching each other intently. Few humans paid them any attention, only a quick glance and a whisper here and there. Eventually, one of the people stepped forward, someone who looked to be a simple secretary.

"I never thought that the Grigori would join the battle." There was both surprise and contempt in her voice as she spoke. "Were you not imprisoned in the earth after our Father cast you down?" A man stepped forward to stare down the smaller person, letting out a slightly offended snort.

"You think little of us, Leliel." The woman seemed a bit startled; clearly she hadn't been counting on this person in front of her to know her name. "We opened our earthly cage long ago." The man grinned, pleased with her reaction. Deciding to ignore the fact that what she thought to be a stranger knew her name, she took a step closer to him.

"Join us. All of you Grigori, you should join our cause." The man bared out a laugh. "And fight your war for you? Let our hands be guided by the ideals of a narrow-minded angel so far up on her high horse that she could not see the angels below her? No. We may be Grigori, imprisoned down under the earth for following Lucifer, but we are sick of simply watching. It is our time to act; it is time for us to bring about a Heaven that _he_ would be proud of." Another angel stepped forward, glaring up at the man with nothing but hatred in his eyes.

"You are nothing but brutes, fallen soldiers! What do you expect to be able to do?" The tall man chuckled, looking over at the suit-clad angel in disguise.

"We did not fall. We were forced out of Heaven, but we retained our grace. You, on the other hand, are weak and broken; the glow of your halos is dim and your wings are burnt. Thus, it would be more appropriate if we asked you" An angel blade slipped into the hand of the tall male as he took a step forward with a menacing grin. "What do_ you_ expect to be able to do, against_ us_?"

In a roar of hatred, the two sides clashed. The spark had ignited a fire so fierce that it would engulf everything around it. The two large groups had nothing but murder in their hearts; they wished to end each other, no matter the cost. Screams and shrieks of terror screeched around them as humans fled in panic, some coming too close to the battle, being used as shields or distractions as they were thrown at the other side, crashing through store windows and crowds. If there was one way to describe it, it was mayhem. Corpses littered the plaza of the mall in mere seconds, blood dripping off the walls as humans were torn into the battle. Bright lights flashed in what looked like explosions every now and then.

The hustle and bustle outside only truly disturbed him when a person was thrown into the small flower shop in which he was currently standing. There was nothing he could do, the person was long dead. However, there was also nothing he wished to do. Human kind was entertaining, and he enjoyed watching them much like how they enjoyed watching those silly shows on television. He had no qualms about watching them die, nor would he go out of his way to aid them. However, this struggle behind him was interrupting what had so far been a peaceful day, something he did not appreciate in the slightest. Sucking in a soft breath, he turned his head, expelling the air in a slow sigh. He had been pleased with the day so far, and having it interrupted with such childlike banter was less than ideal. Raising a hand to stroke it over his hair, he kept his other hand in his pocket before turning around fully, stepping over the dead body. The squabbles of the angels had not bothered him much until today, most likely because they had never before disturbed his way of life. After all, it was much like watching desperate, scrawny dogs fight over a freshly ripped out piece of flesh, but now that they had found their way into his back yard, ruining his flowers; he simply had to do something about it.

Not a lot of time had passed since the battle had started, a minute perhaps, if even that. Humans were rushing past him in sheer panic, barely taking notice of the lone male as he calmly walked through them, heading towards the heart of the battle. It didn't take many more seconds for the mall to have cleared out completely of any humans left alive. Stepping over some corpses, he was moving ever closer to the rage of battle. With each step, the angels began slowing down. In the midst of fighting, their powerful strikes became increasingly lethargic, their otherwise swift movements growing sluggish. It was as though they were out of breath, despite not having any actual need to breathe. Reaching up, they began clawing at their throats in confusion and frustration as none of them could suck in a breath of air; it felt as though their lungs had simply vanished, or been filled with thick, stagnant liquid. The angels collapsed, one after another, each and everyone struggling to remain standing as the man walked into the center of the subsided battle. His arms were held out, but only slightly, his palms facing the floor as he hushed gently.

"Schh, schh.." A strange kind of sizzle could be heard as the marble floor underneath the man began blackening, tainted by the thick darkness that rose from under him. The smoke wasn't like any they had seen before; it looked more like materialized darkness rather than actual smoke. It spread quickly from where the blonde man stood, tainting the bloodstained marble further with its darkness, only seizing to expand once it was surrounding each and every angel which was writhing on the floor. A gentle smiled curved the male's lips as his hands slowly turned towards the ceiling.

"Children should not fight." With those words, his palms faced the ceiling completely, and the black smoke rushed into each of the angels, which screeched out cries of agony as they desperately writhed in pain. It took mere moments for the smoke to trigger the intense, bright glow in the angel's eyes and mouth, and their screams made him shiver with pleasure as their very essence exploded into nothingness, blowing out any windows nearby. It had been a long time since he had done anything of the sort; he even felt somewhat rusty. The smoke swirled out of the now empty vessels, having stained their insides with its darkness. Just a second later, the materialized shadows looked as though they were swiftly sucked back into the pale man through his feet, though despite the departure of the shade, the marble was still painted black with its presence. Sucking in a deep breath, he began moving away from the battlefield, stepping over the limp, empty vessels. The air escaped him in a content sigh; that eerily gentle smile never having left his lips.

Finally, with all the disturbances gone; he could continue his day in peace.

* * *

"Dean, we have a problem." Dean looked up from his breakfast cereal, frowning as he glanced over at the distraught angel. The recently awoken hunter was wearing one of the grey robes, which he always did during the mornings. He couldn't help himself, it didn't matter that they belonged to dead guys; those robes were pure_ heaven_.

"Don't we_ always_ have a problem?" The angel's lips tensed into a pale line before he almost snorted out a sigh, marching over to the other to firmly put down a newspaper onto the table with a thud, staring down at the hunter. "Not this kind of problem." Dean frowned and muttered a quiet 'jeez' along with something else less comprehensible. The angel couldn't care less for whatever Dean could be thinking; he needed to know what was going on, and Dean was the only one he could turn to. It was odd why he felt that way, seeing how Sam was often the one with the actual answers.

Dean picked up the newspaper with one hand, using his other to shovel soggy, sweet cereal into his mouth, the milk dripping down onto the table. It took him nearly a minute to actually start paying attention to the article; the lingerie models on the side of the newspaper had distracted him. Finally, he turned his attention to the article, reading it slowly.

It described an unexplainable event that occurred in a mall in North Carolina. According to witness accounts, two groups of people had suddenly started to viciously attack each other in the middle of the plaza of the mall, causing a lot of casualties. It also described how strange burn marks in the shape of what appeared to be wings had been found on the floor. Dean frowned as he kept reading. The marble floor of where the battle had gone down had turned black. Not just the surface, a sample was taken through drilling and not only the marble, but the concrete and earth underneath it had been turned black. Scientists were still trying to determine the cause, and officers are baffled by the cause of death in many of the victims.

The light haired hunter had stopped eating, leaning back in his seat to immerse himself in the article, going over ever last detail. There wasn't nearly enough information, and he looked up at Castiel with a scowl. The angel looked tense and concerned, but also confused, and he couldn't blame him for it. There was definitely something off about that event.

"What do you think could have happened? Clearly, this wasn't just your average angel showdown." Castiel looked around as Dean spoke, only returning his gaze when the other had finished speaking. "I suggest we travel there immediately." Dean had a hunch that his friend didn't mean that they would take the Impala and go. North Carolina as quite a ways away. The hunter got up on his feet, ignoring the rest of his breakfast.

"I'll go tell Sam and get dressed, then we're off." Dean headed off towards the bedrooms, taking off the robe as he moved. Castiel remained in the reading room, staring down at the newspaper on the table, trying to make sense of what had gone down in that mall. They would need to examine the bodies themselves, and interview witnesses.

"You're leaving..?" The hesitant voice came from Amy, who had been in the kitchen, unbeknownst to both Dean and Castiel. He lifted his head and turned it to look over at her.

"Yes, we are." He stated simply before turning to fully face her. She seemed concerned, as though she could sense that something wasn't quite right with the angel.

"Can I-"

"No." The angel cut her sentence short, narrowing his eyes on her. "You can _not _come with us. It is far too dangerous." She puffed out her cheeks slightly, unhappy with the stoic answer.

"I could help..!" Castiel shook his head firmly, moving over to the girl to place his hands on her shoulders, locking eyes with her. "I need you, to stay safe." The two were staring at each other for a solid minute before she heaved a sigh, slumping her shoulders as her gaze fell to the floor. She knew why she had to stay behind, but she didn't like feeling like a fragile ornament that needed to be kept under lock and key.

"I could help, you know.. I'm not entirely useless." The angel frowned. Had he insulted her? He did not recall saying anything about her being useless. "I did not claim that you are, it is simply too great a risk to bring you with us." Amy looked up at the angel.

"I am not a child..! I am capable of fending for myself, Castiel. I have survived out in the world for a couple hundred years, I am _sure_ that going with you won't spell my doom! It is not as though you're throwing yourself into Hell, am I correct?" She did have a point; that was something he couldn't deny.

"No, we are not throwing ourselves into Hell, but-" A glare from the heated unicorn was enough to shut even Castiel up, even though it was with reluctance that he quieted himself down. He had hoped to simply persuade her into not coming with them, because he was not going to use violence. With any other being they needed to protect, he would most likely have opted for force, but not with what could be the last unicorn still alive on earth. Which he hoped wasn't the case, as he was still trying to secure the species' survival. It took another full minute of staring before it was the angels' turn to heave a sigh in defeat.

"Very well, you may come with us." Amy perked up with a grin, letting out a small, chirping noise of excitement, though she reined herself in as the other narrowed his eyes on her in a stern glare.

"However, you are not to leave our sight. Understood?" Amy nodded vigorously, placing a hand over her heart.

"I _promise_."


	18. The man in the sky blue shirt

Amy had tied her hair back into a tight and high ponytail using her scarf, but that was about as professional as she was going to look. They had no clothes for women in the bunker, and they certainly didn't have time to go shopping, well, except for a really cheap camera which now hung around her neck so that she wouldn't forget it anywhere. There was a clip-on badge with her picture and the words "Crime scene photograph" hanging proudly on her chest, clipped onto the plaid red shirt. She looked so out of place that it was almost painful, but they had been forced to come up with some kind of cover for her.

Castiel had flown them over to the mall, where the investigation of the massive crime scene was still in full swing. This wasn't something that happened every day and it was obvious that the town had poured all its resources into finding out exactly what had happened. It was futile, of course, but these people didn't know that. Ducking in under the perimeter tape, Dean lead the group towards some officers, casually holding up a badge along with his brother, a bit more slowly followed by Castiel.

"Good morning, I'm agent Thomson; these are my partners, Tyler and Willis." The sheriff only glanced at their badges, satisfied with them being genuine.

"I suppose the feds couldn't keep away from this one, huh?" Dean let out a polite chuckle, shaking his head as he put away his badge. "No sir, that we couldn't. Not every day we come across something like this." The man let out a huff, turning around to walk them towards the center of the scene.

"Tell me about it. Ain't ever seen anything like it in all my days. And I've been on the job for 24 years." It was only now that the man noticed the girl following them, eagerly taking photos of everything, the light of the flash flickering with each photo taken. He frowned, glancing at the federal officers who somewhat awkwardly grinned. "Don't let her appearance fool you; she's got quite the talent." Dean stated with confidence, and the officer glanced off at the girl again.

"Is she… _Barefoot_?" Sam blinked and then nodded with a smile, trying to act as though it was completely normal. "Yes, yes she is. A kind of medical condition, can't wear shoes, never let it stop her." That didn't seem to completely pacify the man, but the term _medical condition_ was enough for him to steer away from that conversation, focusing on briefing them on the case instead. Dean glanced at Sam and grinned, giving him a very discrete thumbs up in approval of the improvisation, but Sam nudged his head towards the crime scene to get his brother to focus on what was important.

The officer went over much of the same that they already knew. He explained how it appeared that a kind of gang fight had broken out, but the weird thing was that it had been between completely normal people, several of them from the town itself, with no history of violent behavior. The scientists they had gotten to look at the floor had been just as baffled as they had been; no one understood how not only the marble, but the concrete and earth underneath as well could have turned completely black. He spoke of how terrible the event was and how they had no clue where to go from there, or if it was simply over, as it looked like all the involved people had been killed.

"Though the bodies, man, I've never seen anything like it. It looked like their insides had been completely fried!" Castiel opened his mouth but Dean managed to elbow him in the arm before he said anything about how it was the way that angels died.

"We would like to see the bodies, if we may." Sam spoke softly, looking down at the officer, who hesitated only for a moment before nodding. "Sure. Let me write you a note so you can get the coroner's report as well."

"And the list of witnesses? We'd like to conduct our own interviews." The officer nodded and left them to go write that order down, coming back after a few minutes to hand it over.

* * *

Amy had obviously never been at a coroner's office before, and she was surprisingly unalarmed at the amount of dead bodies on display. There were five people working, desperately trying to find plausible causes of death, struggling to find answers to the strange way that some of them had died.

"It's been hell of a day" the head coroner sighed out, looking up at the agents with a frown. "I've never seen anything like it."

"What can you tell us about the bodies?" Sam smiled politely, looking down at the brunette. She heaved another sigh, adjusting her glasses, looking down at her clipboard. It was apparent that she had pent up frustrations about the case, and they couldn't blame her. It had to be difficult, not being able to make sense of someone's death, when it's your entire job description to find those kinds of answers.

"Well, the ones that got dragged into the fight were easier than the actual fighters. Multiple accounts of trauma, injuries sustained through being thrown through windows, the occasional stab wound to the gut. Then we've got the strange ones." Moving over to a group of metal tables with bodies stripped of clothing on, it was clear to the hunters that those were vessels of now dead angels. However, Amy zipped forward to take pictures, as she had been instructed to do. The coroner glanced at the girl, who was oddly dressed for an official crime scene photograph, but then returned her gaze to the agents. "Their eyes and mouths, along with most of their insides, look as though there was a fire raging inside of them, almost like an explosion. Which is _impossible_, but that's what it looks like." She took a breath, walking off to another group of tables, where two other people were working frantically with examining their bodies.

"Then… We have the weirdest ones. They have no account of actual trauma besides the burnt out eyes and mouth, just some bruising and minor cuts." All three of the fake agents frowned as they moved closer, looking over the body that she was currently standing by. "Their insides were burned like all of the others, but then there's this.." She heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, forcing her glasses up before she looked over at the agents again.

"Their insides are not only burnt, but black. Just like the marble floor, except it stops just shy of their skin." Sam blinked and looked over the body before glancing at the chief coroner.

"You mean, their_ flesh_ is black?"

"Not just their flesh! Their _skeleton_, their _bone marrow_, their _blood_, everything is _pitch black_. Looks completely normal, considering everything, just, as black as night. We've been running tests but we can't find anything out of the ordinary. The tox screens are clean, there are no anomalies in their white nor red blood cell counts, and we've hit a complete dead end." Hugging the clipboard to her chest, she frowned with concern in her eyes.

"We have _no_ idea what killed them."

* * *

The autopsies hadn't made them much wiser, and now they were heading out to interview witnesses. Dean and Sam questioned the decision of bringing Amy along this time, seeing how there was no need of a photograph during interviews, but Castiel had insisted. Eventually they all agreed on removing the clip-on badge from Amy to simply call her an intern who's only there to watch and learn. They could probably get away with it, or at least they hoped they would, since the angel wasn't giving them much choice in the matter.

"We were just heading to the restaurant, and they started fighting out of nowhere!"

"They had really weird knives, but I didn't see much else, I just ran like hell. Crazy fucking people..!"

"Oh god, it was awful! The blood, the bodies, I don't know how I got out alive..!"

"They killed my_ husband_, that's what I saw! How am I going to live without him..?!"

The witnesses were difficult ones to interview. Everyone had the same general story to tell; it had been a regular day and then the horrors had ensued, leaving them shaken and desperate for something to believe in. Most of them also got agitated with them prying for more answers, but they had to ignore their feelings to get at the facts. It took almost the rest of the day, but then finally, they stumbled upon a person who could help them.

"Did you see anything else, sir?" The three of them were tired and about to give up this whole case; it wasn't providing them with any leads. The man frowned and stroked his chin, thinking deeply about what else he could have seen.

"Well" He began, thoughtfully looking down at his feet. "I did see a young man there, walking towards the fight." Dean perked up and took a step forward, pen in hand.

"What did the man look like?" A grunt left the man as he tried to remember. "I don't know.. Blonde, I guess? Like, _really_ blonde, super pale blonde." Castiel frowned and stared at him, determined to find out more.

"Tell us more of what he looked like." The guy threw a slightly concerned glance at the intensely staring agent. "Uh, I guess he was white..? And had some kind of, light blue shirt on? I don't know, sweater or shirt, something like that."

"We need _more_ information." The raspy, tense voice was clearly beginning to intimidate the man who held up his hands slightly.

"Look man, I was kinda' busy running for my_ life_, I just took notice of him, alright? It's not like I stopped to paint a portrait."

"Of course you didn't, that would be a ridiculous thing to do."

"Anyway" Sam interrupted the angel before he could say anything he'd regret. "Thank you for your help, Mister Phillips. We'll be in touch if we need anything more from you." The man gave them a nod, leading them out to the door and closing it behind them. Walking along the path towards the car, they idly discussed who the man could have seen.

"You know" Amy said as she looked up at the sky, tipping her head to the side in thought. "That kind of sounds like someone I've seen." Looking down from the sky, she peered up at the others. "I just, can't quite place it." The three got their hopes up to the point it was visible before Dean heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm sure you've seen plenty of blonde white guys in light blue sweaters, Amy." Dean pulled the car door open, sliding in. Having been reminded of how small the chances were of Amy actually having seen the guy they were looking for, Castiel and Sam sat down in the car.

"No, it was definitely a shirt." Amy said as she slipped into the car, closing the door behind her, sliding down to sit in her usual way.

"And it was _sky_ blue, not light blue." The engine roared to life as they pulled out into the street, heading back to the motel. Dean hated having to drive rented cars, but it was the price of having been flown there by Castiel. It was a convenient way to travel, but he really didn't like leaving his baby behind.

"It is_ highly_ improbable that you would have seen this man before, Amy." Castiel spoke with defeat in his voice. He wished to believe that they had a lead in Amy, but it was simply too unlikely. Amy puffed out her cheeks only to smile moments later, looking out the window with her hands resting gently on her abdomen.

"You'll see. I'll remember where I've seen a man like that, and you'llall _thank me_ when I do."


	19. Someone new

Antony had told the two to come back the next evening as he needed time to prepare. Sam and Dean, along with Amy, had ventured off to a local diner after securing a place to sleep.

"So why exactly wasn't I allowed to come inside? It's boring in the car when no one's there." While the other two were eating proper dinners with meat and potatoes, and a whole lot of vegetables on Sam's plate, Amy was contently eating some chocolate cake that they had ordered in for her. She was tearing off pieces with her fingers, putting them in her mouth to chew contently, the fork next to the plate completely untouched. Sam leaned back in his seat, washing down his current mouthful with some water.

"We figured it'd be enough of a shock for him to have two hunters show up, having a unicorn _as well_ might've been.. A tad overwhelming for the guy." He spoke with one of those almost apologetic smiles of his. Sam always seemed concerned in one way or another, and it made her confused most of the time. Even when there was nothing to be concerned about, he'd have that frown, even as he smiled. Amy tipped her head to the side, not realizing that she was staring at Sam with narrow eyes as she got lost in thinking.

"Ey! Snap out of it!" She was yanked back to reality as Dean snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of her face and she looked at him much like a startled deer.

"What?" Dean rolled his eyes with a hint of a grin as he returned to his plate, which was mostly finished. However, Dean was not one to let any food go to waste, no matter how small. Thus he was now busying himself with picking up and eating every last little crumb of food. Sam smiled and glanced at Amy. "You were staring."

"I was? Oh yeah, I was." She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, smiling cheerfully before tearing off another piece of the cake. "I guess I'll have to think about where I look, you're all so sensitive about being looked at."

They all continued eating in peace. Or well, Dean was scouting for women as discretely as he could while Sam, who didn't binge down his food like his brother, kept eating quietly. She enjoyed these moments, when the two forgot to be anxious around each other. There were things buried between them that kept being unearthed, and every time something came up, they'd grow tense and try to bury it as soon as possible, preferably deeper than before. She wished to help them, but it wasn't her fight to join. They had to sort those tangled emotions out themselves. She could heal physical wounds and illnesses, but not those of the soul.

She'd be there for them, though. There was so much muddled pain in the two of them that trying to help became irresistible. Even if she wouldn't be there with them such as she was there in the diner, sitting with them by the table, she would keep watching over them. Being in their presence for so long had logged their wavelengths in her mind and soul, and their essence was not one easily forgotten or mistaken. Thus she'd be watching over them, in her own kind of way.

* * *

Amy had managed to beg her way into meeting the psychic. She'd never come across anyone psychic before and was very eager to find out what they were like. So the next evening, the three of them went to Anthony's house together, and Dean firmly knocked on the door while Amy was curiously peering into the house through the porch window.

"I see him!" She grinned excitedly and hurried back over to the door as Anthony opened it. Needless to say, he was surprised to see someone else with the hunters, and he frowned, throwing suspicious glances at the two men.

"Who's this."

"This? Well this, is, our _sister_." Dean lied, and the sensation of it caused Amy to shudder with displeasure. She really didn't like it when they lied, and it was even more unsettling when she was involved directly.

"Your sister, huh? She a hunter too?" Anthony looked less than convinced as he glanced down at Amy, who looked more uncomfortable by the second. Sam shook his head with a chuckle.

"No, she's not, but she's staying with us for the time being." At least that was the truth. Being part of a lie made her feel inexplicably filthy, despite not having told an actual lie herself. She wasn't even sure if she was able of lying. Perhaps she had to actually try it at some point, but not now.

"Alright… Well, come on in." Anthony stepped aside to let them all in. He was dressed more casually this time, with a navy blue shirt and a white t-shirt underneath, along with a pair of what looked like very old jeans. Probably his favorite pair. The hunters, along with a very fascinated unicorn, walked into the hallway.

"Shoes off." Anthony ordered them, and they all obeyed, even though Dean grunted a bit as he struggled to get his shoes off smoothly.

There was a round table set up in the middle of the living room, with three chairs around it. There was a summoning crest painted on the table, along with candles that had yet to be lit. The other furniture in the room had been pushed to the sides to create more space, and curtains over the windows blocked off the light from the street. There were symbols carved into the edges of the thick table, and there were paintings hanging on the wall; all of them different kinds of rejecting wards. It was a proper séance setting, despite them not going to summon a spirit. At least they didn't think they were summoning a spirit.

"You sure this is all necessary?" Sam wasn't allowed to speak further as Anthony cut him off.

"Hey." He held up a finger. "_I'm_ the one risking my ass summoning something which we've got _no clue _what it is. I've got rejection wards for everything that **can** be rejected," He motioned towards the paintings. "So that if something _really dangerous_ shows up, at least I've got a**chance** to get out of it alive!" The brothers glanced at each other. Anthony did have a very solid point; they had no clue what they were about to bring into this quiet little home of his. Being precautious was the least they could be.

"Alright" Dean sat down in one of the chairs. "When do we get started?" Anthony held out his hand with tense lips, narrowing his eyes on Dean. "I need the sample." Dean jumped slightly with the realization and dug into his pocket, pulling out a cylinder of marble and concrete, which was completely black. It was contained in a plastic evidence bag.

"This good?" The psychic snatched the bag from Dean, huffing lightly as he opened it up. "Yeah it'll be fine. It should give me some idea of what to search for."

Weighing the sample in his hand, he frowned. It has such a heavy feel to it, and not just because it was marble and concrete. It was as though whatever had stained it was seeping through his skin, making his chest feel heavy. Taking a deep breath, he sat down by the table, and Sam soon followed. Realizing there was no chair for her, Amy simply thumped down onto the floor, which earned her a sharp glance from Anthony. He held out his hands, and the brothers somewhat reluctantly grabbed his and each others as well. Lighting the candles, he closed his eyes. The sample of black rock was held firmly in his own and Dean's hand, as he needed it as a conduct for communication. He cared little for what the hunters thought about the séance, he needed to do this properly, and that unfortunately involved some rather cliché chanting. He had never liked the old ways of the psychics, but it was all he had been taught; yet he still had little skill compared to the ones who had taught him. However, they were all dead, and he was alive.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle." Even as he spoke the words the first time, there was a heavy, unsettling feeling lodging itself in his gut, causing him to frown.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle." The flicker of the candles seemed to increase before dying down, barely holding on to life, as though they were trapped inside a glass. The air felt heavy. Amy curled up on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest with a worried expression. "I don't like this.." Her voice was but a whisper as she nervously glanced around. Dean and Sam kept the circle whole but threw concerned glances around the room. The curtains seemed to suddenly be doing a whole lot better job of keeping the light outside from coming in.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle, show me your face!" Sam swallowed tightly; this was a bit too familiar. Last time they had done something like this, it had been with Pamela, and it had ended with her getting her eyes burnt out of her skull. Dean kept a straight face, keeping his focus on Anthony, who seemed to be struggling more and more with speaking properly, as though he was out of breath.

"I invoke, conjure.. And command you, appear unto me.. Before this circle. Show me, your face..!" Sam blinked as he noticed that the glass of the windows had gone from transparent to black; the color was even creeping out along the walls, staining them. He kept an eye on it while throwing nervous glances at Anthony and Dean. "Guys, perhaps we should, stop this."

"I don't quit what I've started!" The young man's voice was like a snarl as he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in air sharply.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle..! Show yourself! I command you!" Suddenly, the up until then slowly creeping darkness spread through the room like wildfire, tainting every surface, ruining the seals and wards through turning everything black, and a layered, echoing laugh rang in the room. It was like a base so powerful that they were forced to break the circle, covering their ears with their hands the best they could. Dean frowned as he clenched his teeth, barely able to move from the heavy laughter which made it feel as though gravity itself had increased tenfold. Throwing a glance up, he noticed a mass of darkness swirling above them, before it suddenly dove towards the table. Right before hitting the surface of it, it changed its direction, forcing itself into the body of the summoner, the laughter following it. As the smoke entered his body, he nearly fell forward but caught himself with his arms against the table, laughing amusedly with the voice of Anthony. He was hanging his head still, taking deep breaths.

"You people, commanding _me_?" Another chuckle left him and the two hunters glanced at each other nervously. Dean sucked in a breath, hesitating before speaking up. "Anthony..?" The young man in front of them raised his head with the grin of someone who had just heard the funniest joke of the century. The brothers' eyes widened as they saw him; his eyewhites had gone black, but it was not like demon eyes. He still had irises, white irises, and black pupils. Dean frowned.

"That's just freaky." The creature possessing Anthony's body blinked and raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his seat. "Hm? Oh,_ that_." Blinking once again, the eyes returned to their normal state. "Better? It is so easy to forget the effects on a vessel a presence like mine has. Though I must say, this one has a surprisingly small reaction." He looked over himself; or rather, his vessel, with quite a pleased smile curving his lips. "I'm impressed by this one; it's just as efficient as my other one."

"You mean the one that's_ rotting _right now because you're here inside _him_?" Dean spoke through gritted teeth, glaring at the psychic; or well, what was inside of him. The stranger raised his eyebrows as he looked over at Dean, as though his statement was boring him.

"No, I speak of the one that is currently walking down the streets of New York." Sam blinked and the two hunters threw glances at each other before looking at the strange person in front of them.

"Your vessel is alive?"

"_No_. I split myself so that I can be in two places at once." He spat out the words as though he had just been forced to explain to a toddler that yes, it is water in the ocean, not milk.

"That's ridiculous! I've never heard of a demon that can do that." The shorter one of the hunters snorted, rolling his eyes. Sam weighed the suggestion with titled nods, uncertain if it really was as impossible as his brother had implied. "I don't know, isn't Abaddon able to force part of herself into people to read their minds?" The stranger rolled his eyes with a bored expression, watching them as he leaned back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other.

"Yeah but she's a _Knight of Hell_, not your average demon."

"Are you suggesting that I am an, _average demon_?" The man had raised an eyebrow as he watched them much like a predator eyed its prey, his eyes narrow. There was nothing but an icy darkness in his voice as he spoke, clearly, that comment had not gone down well with him. Dean didn't seem to catch on as quickly as Sam did however.

"What? No! I mean, we don't know_ what_ you are, we're just, tossing ideas around." He let out a nervous huff of a chuckle, clearing his throat lightly.

"I did not _need_ to answer your summons. I am being very civil and generous; I haven't even _considered_ ripping your entrails out of your body through your eyes. However, you are testing my patience with this endless chatter. If you wish to know what I am, simply **ask**!" His voice grew louder the closer he got to the end of his sentence, causing the air in the room to thicken. A wheezing noise was heard and he blinked, looking down at the floor, where Amy was struggling for air, clawing at her throat. It took him a moment before he smiled, a smile that got Dean to get up of his seat, cautiously moving over to Amy.

"What did you do?" Sam threw concerned glances over at the struggling unicorn; she had been so quiet that they had both completely forgotten that she was there. He looked over at the stranger, expecting answers.

"My presence can be a tad… _Overwhelming_ to holy creatures." The man turned his head to smirk at Sam, his expression the essence of calm. There was enjoyment in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to the struggling unicorn, who was tightly clinging to Dean as he had scooped her up.

"Well, make it_ not_ overwhelming!" Dean snarled at the stranger with narrowed eyes, glaring at him. He didn't like this guy, not one bit. There was something too content about him, something darker than the average shade they ran into on a daily basis.

"That's like asking _you_ to suddenly become incapable of.." He looked Dean over with contempt. "Enjoying_ pie_. My my.. You humans are such simple creatures." It seemed to make sense to Dean though, albeit he wasn't too pleased about it, judging by the way he was still glaring at the other. Heaving a sigh, the man waved a hand at the hunter.

"Just get her out of the room and she should be fine. I am not _deliberately_ doing it; she simply needs to get out of my _range_." Dean didn't waste any time listening to more of the strangers' babble and instead promptly left the room to get Amy to the Impala, thus leaving Sam alone with the possessed Anthony.

"So, you're…_ Not_ a demon?" Sam spoke hesitantly, as though he was sitting on the trigger of a massive bomb. He knew nothing of this creature that was possessing their new acquaintance, and he had to tread carefully; they had promised to get Anthony out of this alive. Scraping at the arm rest of his chair, the stranger seemed quite uninterested by what Sam had to say.

"No, I am not. I suppose you could call me the_ inspiration_ of demons as a race." He got up from his seat, something which caused Sam to tense up, his hand drifting over to his gun, as Dean was the one with the knife. He suspected that guns did not do much to this person, and he didn't want to shoot Anthony either, but keeping his hand on it was a way to calm himself. However, his nervousness seemed to go unnoticed as the man busied himself with looking over his new vessel again. "No burns, not even a tear. I quite enjoy this vessel."

"He's not yours." The words slipped out of him before he could stop himself, and he swallowed tightly as the other turned his head to look at him with an unpleasant smile.

"If I wish to keep this as a vessel, there is nothing _you_, as the_ puny_ hunter that you are, can do about it." He flattened out the navy blue shirt with his palms, still smiling. "For me, any vessel that can contain me without getting ruined is.. What _is it_ that you humans say? Ah yes, it's _priceless_. Which is, by the way, a ridiculous saying; you humans are willing to sell _anything_ for the right price."

The door was opened again by Dean, causing Sam to heave a breath of relief; now at least he didn't have to fend for himself.

"How's Amy?" Dean threw a glance at Sam before looking over at the stranger. "She's fine, resting in the Impala. Ey, you! What the hell are you, huh?" Sam flinched as his brother barked out the words at the possessed Anthony, but when they weren't slain in a second, he relaxed a bit.

"He says he's the inspiration of all demons." Sam looked over at Dean for a moment before returning his gaze to Anthony. Dean let out a snort, grinning like it was a joke. "Bullshit. Come on, what are you, some kind of Knight of Hell? Their boss maybe?" The other heaved a sigh, tired of these tedious guesses.

"Hell, Hell, _Hell_, I am so **tired** of hearing that word." He snorted, shooting a glare at the two hunters. "_Hell_ is nothing but a _poor remodel_, a twisted_, ugly_ version of _perfection_."

That was when the pieces connected within Sam's mind and he stared at the other. This was bad, very bad. He was sucking in a very slow breath as his mind vigorously worked over how they were to get out of there alive. That summoning something unknown was a bad idea;_ that _they had known all along, but they probably couldn't have asked for a worse outcome.

"You're the Lord." Sam's voice was almost a mumbling whisper as he watched the stranger. "_You're_ the one who created the kingdom before Hell..!" Dean frowned and looked over at his brother in confusion. That just couldn't be right, someone like that couldn't possibly be civil like this, and definitely would not answer their summons.

"You're kidding, right? Sammy, this guy can't be _that_ guy, I mean, come on!" He motioned over to Anthony, hesitantly looking over at him. "It can't be him..!"

"Oh, I _do_ apologize for not being a twenty foot tall monster that smashes everything in its way." The man rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with this charade. Dean was about to open his mouth when the man raised a finger, stripping Dean of his ability to speak.

"This has been _entertaining_, but I have no interest in engaging with you any longer. I have work to do." He smiled calmly, looking at the two. "As a sign of my _grace and civility_, and as a condition for _you_ to not attempt summoning me again, I shall leave this vessel here with you, since you seem so eager to keep it. However, know that if I find myself in need of a new vessel, I will listen to no feeble bargains, pleads or threats. I will come, and I will _take_ this body as my vessel and I will _not_ hear any complaints. Do we understand each other? Yes? Good. Farewell." Bowing with a smile, the man then stood up straight. It took less than a second for the solid darkness to throw itself out of the psychic, swirling against the ceiling before phasing through the walls and up into the sky. As soon as the smoke-like darkness had left Anthony, his body went limp and he collapsed onto the floor, unconscious. It took the brothers a second before they reacted, both rushing over to check if he was in fact still alive. One could never trust creatures like that.

"Hey, Anthony! Tony! Wake up damn it!" Dean was grabbing the male's shoulders, nearly shaking him in an attempt to get him back to the conscious world.

"Dean. Dean! Quit it, you're going to end up hurting him." Dean rolled his eyes but then blinked as the psychic groaned slowly, his hands instinctively moving up to weakly rub at his eyes. Sam pushed his brother away slightly in order to prevent any further attempts at shaking the newly released vessel.

"Tony? Hey, Tony, can you hear me?" Sam was wearing one of those concerned frowns that he so often wore as he looked down at the other, but only a quiet mutter left the male on the floor. Looking at each other in confusion, they then looked back down at Anthony.

"Sorry, Tony, what was that?" Sucking in a deep breath, he managed to open his eyes halfway, seeming rather groggy, his voice dragging slightly.

"Only my **mother** calls me Tony."


	20. A risky move

Antony had told the two to come back the next evening as he needed time to prepare. Sam and Dean, along with Amy, had ventured off to a local diner after securing a place to sleep.

"So why exactly wasn't I allowed to come inside? It's boring in the car when no one's there." While the other two were eating proper dinners with meat and potatoes, and a whole lot of vegetables on Sam's plate, Amy was contently eating some chocolate cake that they had ordered in for her. She was tearing off pieces with her fingers, putting them in her mouth to chew contently, the fork next to the plate completely untouched. Sam leaned back in his seat, washing down his current mouthful with some water.

"We figured it'd be enough of a shock for him to have two hunters show up, having a unicorn _as well_ might've been.. A tad overwhelming for the guy." He spoke with one of those almost apologetic smiles of his. Sam always seemed concerned in one way or another, and it made her confused most of the time. Even when there was nothing to be concerned about, he'd have that frown, even as he smiled. Amy tipped her head to the side, not realizing that she was staring at Sam with narrow eyes as she got lost in thinking.

"Ey! Snap out of it!" She was yanked back to reality as Dean snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of her face and she looked at him much like a startled deer.

"What?" Dean rolled his eyes with a hint of a grin as he returned to his plate, which was mostly finished. However, Dean was not one to let any food go to waste, no matter how small. Thus he was now busying himself with picking up and eating every last little crumb of food. Sam smiled and glanced at Amy. "You were staring."

"I was? Oh yeah, I was." She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, smiling cheerfully before tearing off another piece of the cake. "I guess I'll have to think about where I look, you're all so sensitive about being looked at."

They all continued eating in peace. Or well, Dean was scouting for women as discretely as he could while Sam, who didn't binge down his food like his brother, kept eating quietly. She enjoyed these moments, when the two forgot to be anxious around each other. There were things buried between them that kept being unearthed, and every time something came up, they'd grow tense and try to bury it as soon as possible, preferably deeper than before. She wished to help them, but it wasn't her fight to join. They had to sort those tangled emotions out themselves. She could heal physical wounds and illnesses, but not those of the soul.

She'd be there for them, though. There was so much muddled pain in the two of them that trying to help became irresistible. Even if she wouldn't be there with them such as she was there in the diner, sitting with them by the table, she would keep watching over them. Being in their presence for so long had logged their wavelengths in her mind and soul, and their essence was not one easily forgotten or mistaken. Thus she'd be watching over them, in her own kind of way.

Amy had managed to beg her way into meeting the psychic. She'd never come across anyone psychic before and was very eager to find out what they were like. So the next evening, the three of them went to Anthony's house together, and Dean firmly knocked on the door while Amy was curiously peering into the house through the porch window.

"I see him!" She grinned excitedly and hurried back over to the door as Anthony opened it. Needless to say, he was surprised to see someone else with the hunters, and he frowned, throwing suspicious glances at the two men.

"Who's this."

"This? Well this, is, our _sister_." Dean lied, and the sensation of it caused Amy to shudder with displeasure. She really didn't like it when they lied, and it was even more unsettling when she was involved directly.

"Your sister, huh? She a hunter too?" Anthony looked less than convinced as he glanced down at Amy, who looked more uncomfortable by the second. Sam shook his head with a chuckle.

"No, she's not, but she's staying with us for the time being." At least that was the truth. Being part of a lie made her feel inexplicably filthy, despite not having told an actual lie herself. She wasn't even sure if she was able of lying. Perhaps she had to actually try it at some point, but not now.

"Alright… Well, come on in." Anthony stepped aside to let them all in. He was dressed more casually this time, with a navy blue shirt and a white t-shirt underneath, along with a pair of what looked like very old jeans. Probably his favorite pair. The hunters, along with a very fascinated unicorn, walked into the hallway.

"Shoes off." Anthony ordered them, and they all obeyed, even though Dean grunted a bit as he struggled to get his shoes off smoothly.

There was a round table set up in the middle of the living room, with three chairs around it. There was a summoning crest painted on the table, along with candles that had yet to be lit. The other furniture in the room had been pushed to the sides to create more space, and curtains over the windows blocked off the light from the street. There were symbols carved into the edges of the thick table, and there were paintings hanging on the wall; all of them different kinds of rejecting wards. It was a proper séance setting, despite them not going to summon a spirit. At least they didn't think they were summoning a spirit.

"You sure this is all necessary?" Sam wasn't allowed to speak further as Anthony cut him off.

"Hey." He held up a finger. "_I'm_ the one risking my ass summoning something which we've got _no clue _what it is. I've got rejection wards for everything that **can** be rejected," He motioned towards the paintings. "So that if something _really dangerous_ shows up, at least I've got a**chance** to get out of it alive!" The brothers glanced at each other. Anthony did have a very solid point; they had no clue what they were about to bring into this quiet little home of his. Being precautious was the least they could be.

"Alright" Dean sat down in one of the chairs. "When do we get started?" Anthony held out his hand with tense lips, narrowing his eyes on Dean. "I need the sample." Dean jumped slightly with the realization and dug into his pocket, pulling out a cylinder of marble and concrete, which was completely black. It was contained in a plastic evidence bag.

"This good?" The psychic snatched the bag from Dean, huffing lightly as he opened it up. "Yeah it'll be fine. It should give me some idea of what to search for."

Weighing the sample in his hand, he frowned. It has such a heavy feel to it, and not just because it was marble and concrete. It was as though whatever had stained it was seeping through his skin, making his chest feel heavy. Taking a deep breath, he sat down by the table, and Sam soon followed. Realizing there was no chair for her, Amy simply thumped down onto the floor, which earned her a sharp glance from Anthony. He held out his hands, and the brothers somewhat reluctantly grabbed his and each others as well. Lighting the candles, he closed his eyes. The sample of black rock was held firmly in his own and Dean's hand, as he needed it as a conduct for communication. He cared little for what the hunters thought about the séance, he needed to do this properly, and that unfortunately involved some rather cliché chanting. He had never liked the old ways of the psychics, but it was all he had been taught; yet he still had little skill compared to the ones who had taught him. However, they were all dead, and he was alive.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle." Even as he spoke the words the first time, there was a heavy, unsettling feeling lodging itself in his gut, causing him to frown.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle." The flicker of the candles seemed to increase before dying down, barely holding on to life, as though they were trapped inside a glass. The air felt heavy. Amy curled up on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest with a worried expression. "I don't like this.." Her voice was but a whisper as she nervously glanced around. Dean and Sam kept the circle whole but threw concerned glances around the room. The curtains seemed to suddenly be doing a whole lot better job of keeping the light outside from coming in.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle, show me your face!" Sam swallowed tightly; this was a bit too familiar. Last time they had done something like this, it had been with Pamela, and it had ended with her getting her eyes burnt out of her skull. Dean kept a straight face, keeping his focus on Anthony, who seemed to be struggling more and more with speaking properly, as though he was out of breath.

"I invoke, conjure.. And command you, appear unto me.. Before this circle. Show me, your face..!" Sam blinked as he noticed that the glass of the windows had gone from transparent to black; the color was even creeping out along the walls, staining them. He kept an eye on it while throwing nervous glances at Anthony and Dean. "Guys, perhaps we should, stop this."

"I don't quit what I've started!" The young man's voice was like a snarl as he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in air sharply.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle..! Show yourself! I command you!" Suddenly, the up until then slowly creeping darkness spread through the room like wildfire, tainting every surface, ruining the seals and wards through turning everything black, and a layered, echoing laugh rang in the room. It was like a base so powerful that they were forced to break the circle, covering their ears with their hands the best they could. Dean frowned as he clenched his teeth, barely able to move from the heavy laughter which made it feel as though gravity itself had increased tenfold. Throwing a glance up, he noticed a mass of darkness swirling above them, before it suddenly dove towards the table. Right before hitting the surface of it, it changed its direction, forcing itself into the body of the summoner, the laughter following it. As the smoke entered his body, he nearly fell forward but caught himself with his arms against the table, laughing amusedly with the voice of Anthony. He was hanging his head still, taking deep breaths.

"You people, commanding _me_?" Another chuckle left him and the two hunters glanced at each other nervously. Dean sucked in a breath, hesitating before speaking up. "Anthony..?" The young man in front of them raised his head with the grin of someone who had just heard the funniest joke of the century. The brothers' eyes widened as they saw him; his eyewhites had gone black, but it was not like demon eyes. He still had irises, white irises, and black pupils. Dean frowned.

"That's just freaky." The creature possessing Anthony's body blinked and raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his seat. "Hm? Oh,_ that_." Blinking once again, the eyes returned to their normal state. "Better? It is so easy to forget the effects on a vessel a presence like mine has. Though I must say, this one has a surprisingly small reaction." He looked over himself; or rather, his vessel, with quite a pleased smile curving his lips. "I'm impressed by this one; it's just as efficient as my other one."

"You mean the one that's_ rotting _right now because you're here inside _him_?" Dean spoke through gritted teeth, glaring at the psychic; or well, what was inside of him. The stranger raised his eyebrows as he looked over at Dean, as though his statement was boring him.

"No, I speak of the one that is currently walking down the streets of New York." Sam blinked and the two hunters threw glances at each other before looking at the strange person in front of them.

"Your vessel is alive?"

"_No_. I split myself so that I can be in two places at once." He spat out the words as though he had just been forced to explain to a toddler that yes, it is water in the ocean, not milk.

"That's ridiculous! I've never heard of a demon that can do that." The shorter one of the hunters snorted, rolling his eyes. Sam weighed the suggestion with titled nods, uncertain if it really was as impossible as his brother had implied. "I don't know, isn't Abaddon able to force part of herself into people to read their minds?" The stranger rolled his eyes with a bored expression, watching them as he leaned back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other.

"Yeah but she's a _Knight of Hell_, not your average demon."

"Are you suggesting that I am an, _average demon_?" The man had raised an eyebrow as he watched them much like a predator eyed its prey, his eyes narrow. There was nothing but an icy darkness in his voice as he spoke, clearly, that comment had not gone down well with him. Dean didn't seem to catch on as quickly as Sam did however.

"What? No! I mean, we don't know_ what_ you are, we're just, tossing ideas around." He let out a nervous huff of a chuckle, clearing his throat lightly.

"I did not _need_ to answer your summons. I am being very civil and generous; I haven't even _considered_ ripping your entrails out of your body through your eyes. However, you are testing my patience with this endless chatter. If you wish to know what I am, simply **ask**!" His voice grew louder the closer he got to the end of his sentence, causing the air in the room to thicken. A wheezing noise was heard and he blinked, looking down at the floor, where Amy was struggling for air, clawing at her throat. It took him a moment before he smiled, a smile that got Dean to get up of his seat, cautiously moving over to Amy.

"What did you do?" Sam threw concerned glances over at the struggling unicorn; she had been so quiet that they had both completely forgotten that she was there. He looked over at the stranger, expecting answers.

"My presence can be a tad… _Overwhelming_ to holy creatures." The man turned his head to smirk at Sam, his expression the essence of calm. There was enjoyment in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to the struggling unicorn, who was tightly clinging to Dean as he had scooped her up.

"Well, make it_ not_ overwhelming!" Dean snarled at the stranger with narrowed eyes, glaring at him. He didn't like this guy, not one bit. There was something too content about him, something darker than the average shade they ran into on a daily basis.

"That's like asking _you_ to suddenly become incapable of.." He looked Dean over with contempt. "Enjoying_ pie_. My my.. You humans are such simple creatures." It seemed to make sense to Dean though, albeit he wasn't too pleased about it, judging by the way he was still glaring at the other. Heaving a sigh, the man waved a hand at the hunter.

"Just get her out of the room and she should be fine. I am not _deliberately_ doing it; she simply needs to get out of my _range_." Dean didn't waste any time listening to more of the strangers' babble and instead promptly left the room to get Amy to the Impala, thus leaving Sam alone with the possessed Anthony.

"So, you're…_ Not_ a demon?" Sam spoke hesitantly, as though he was sitting on the trigger of a massive bomb. He knew nothing of this creature that was possessing their new acquaintance, and he had to tread carefully; they had promised to get Anthony out of this alive. Scraping at the arm rest of his chair, the stranger seemed quite uninterested by what Sam had to say.

"No, I am not. I suppose you could call me the_ inspiration_ of demons as a race." He got up from his seat, something which caused Sam to tense up, his hand drifting over to his gun, as Dean was the one with the knife. He suspected that guns did not do much to this person, and he didn't want to shoot Anthony either, but keeping his hand on it was a way to calm himself. However, his nervousness seemed to go unnoticed as the man busied himself with looking over his new vessel again. "No burns, not even a tear. I quite enjoy this vessel."

"He's not yours." The words slipped out of him before he could stop himself, and he swallowed tightly as the other turned his head to look at him with an unpleasant smile.

"If I wish to keep this as a vessel, there is nothing _you_, as the_ puny_ hunter that you are, can do about it." He flattened out the navy blue shirt with his palms, still smiling. "For me, any vessel that can contain me without getting ruined is.. What _is it_ that you humans say? Ah yes, it's _priceless_. Which is, by the way, a ridiculous saying; you humans are willing to sell _anything_ for the right price."

The door was opened again by Dean, causing Sam to heave a breath of relief; now at least he didn't have to fend for himself.

"How's Amy?" Dean threw a glance at Sam before looking over at the stranger. "She's fine, resting in the Impala. Ey, you! What the hell are you, huh?" Sam flinched as his brother barked out the words at the possessed Anthony, but when they weren't slain in a second, he relaxed a bit.

"He says he's the inspiration of all demons." Sam looked over at Dean for a moment before returning his gaze to Anthony. Dean let out a snort, grinning like it was a joke. "Bullshit. Come on, what are you, some kind of Knight of Hell? Their boss maybe?" The other heaved a sigh, tired of these tedious guesses.

"Hell, Hell, _Hell_, I am so **tired** of hearing that word." He snorted, shooting a glare at the two hunters. "_Hell_ is nothing but a _poor remodel_, a twisted_, ugly_ version of _perfection_."

That was when the pieces connected within Sam's mind and he stared at the other. This was bad, very bad. He was sucking in a very slow breath as his mind vigorously worked over how they were to get out of there alive. That summoning something unknown was a bad idea;_ that _they had known all along, but they probably couldn't have asked for a worse outcome.

"You're the Lord." Sam's voice was almost a mumbling whisper as he watched the stranger. "_You're_ the one who created the kingdom before Hell..!" Dean frowned and looked over at his brother in confusion. That just couldn't be right, someone like that couldn't possibly be civil like this, and definitely would not answer their summons.

"You're kidding, right? Sammy, this guy can't be _that_ guy, I mean, come on!" He motioned over to Anthony, hesitantly looking over at him. "It can't be him..!"

"Oh, I _do_ apologize for not being a twenty foot tall monster that smashes everything in its way." The man rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with this charade. Dean was about to open his mouth when the man raised a finger, stripping Dean of his ability to speak.

"This has been _entertaining_, but I have no interest in engaging with you any longer. I have work to do." He smiled calmly, looking at the two. "As a sign of my _grace and civility_, and as a condition for _you_ to not attempt summoning me again, I shall leave this vessel here with you, since you seem so eager to keep it. However, know that if I find myself in need of a new vessel, I will listen to no feeble bargains, pleads or threats. I will come, and I will _take_ this body as my vessel and I will _not_ hear any complaints. Do we understand each other? Yes? Good. Farewell." Bowing with a smile, the man then stood up straight. It took less than a second for the solid darkness to throw itself out of the psychic, swirling against the ceiling before phasing through the walls and up into the sky. As soon as the smoke-like darkness had left Anthony, his body went limp and he collapsed onto the floor, unconscious. It took the brothers a second before they reacted, both rushing over to check if he was in fact still alive. One could never trust creatures like that.

"Hey, Anthony! Tony! Wake up damn it!" Dean was grabbing the male's shoulders, nearly shaking him in an attempt to get him back to the conscious world.

"Dean. Dean! Quit it, you're going to end up hurting him." Dean rolled his eyes but then blinked as the psychic groaned slowly, his hands instinctively moving up to weakly rub at his eyes. Sam pushed his brother away slightly in order to prevent any further attempts at shaking the newly released vessel.

"Tony? Hey, Tony, can you hear me?" Sam was wearing one of those concerned frowns that he so often wore as he looked down at the other, but only a quiet mutter left the male on the floor. Looking at each other in confusion, they then looked back down at Anthony.

"Sorry, Tony, what was that?" Sucking in a deep breath, he managed to open his eyes halfway, seeming rather groggy, his voice dragging slightly.

"Only my **mother** calls me Tony."


End file.
